#I wish I could be everything he wanted and needed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satowooo · 2 days

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i. imgonnagetyouback

The one and only son of the Gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. Years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back.

contents. modern au, gojo satoru x reader, angst, not proofread.

Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back

next chapter

It was pathetic. The sight of Gojo Satoru, a well-respected son of the Gojo clan, was down on his knees right in front of you, begging you to stay, a daughter of a mere servant.

It made him look pitiful and weak, a miserable prince who had his heart shattered by a low class woman like you. But he didn't really give it that much of a thought, ever since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't care what people might've said from the very first time, and he proved it to you a million times as he stubbornly and desperately showed you how much he loves and adores you. So, begging down on his knees is not that much of a deal now, no?

“Stand up, please.”

But you were firm, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You hated seeing him like this, but you were left with no other choice. Your love for him could risk even the dangers of your life, and you were sacrificing him to save him.

“I do not wish to be with you any longer, Young Master.” You said, uttering his title in a whisper. “What we had was wrong. It was a mistake on my side. And I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a pathetic infatuation and I realised that another man best suits me, and it's not you.”

Your words were nonstop, every single thing that you uttered was shattering his heart into pieces. But Satoru furiously shakes his head, his hands trembling on your lap as his forehead falls on your knees.

“T-that’s not… T-that's not true…”

You remembered everything from that day. Every little detail, every word, every touch, every action, of what had happened stayed forever in your mind. It never fails to shatter you. To make you cry every single time that you thought about him as you lie in the confinements of your small room.

“I have done what you asked for. What else do I need to do–” A whimper escaped your lips as a hand flew over your cheek. Breathing heavily, you felt the sting on your skin as you looked back at the person who had been the cause of your pain.

“Pack your things, and never show your face again.”

Gojo Satoru haunted your dreams and nightmares. He managed his way in your heart, and refused to leave. He was the ghost of your tragic love story, you could only wish that you never should've picked up the pen. It's already been two years since you left, and even until now, your heart only beats for one man and it will always be for Satoru.

So what are you going to do when he comes up at your door, claiming what used to be his?

It all happened so fast that your head can't fathom how you ended back to the place of your nightmares. The Gojo clan's mansion. The place where it all started between the two of you.

Every corner of this place was filled with memories of you and Satoru, all the good and bad. But what you remembered most was the torture, the consequences you had faced for falling in love. You felt like all your scars were slowly tearing apart, opening the wound that was almost healed as you looked back to the man who stood in front of you.

You never should've been back in this place.

“I expect you to work immediately.” Satoru's voice was different. It was laced with authority and demand, not the sweet ones that you remember back when he was yours. “Remember, your family is in the palm of my hands. Try to escape, and you'll face the consequences.”

His eyes looked at you with anger, a pent up emotion that he bottled up all these years. His hands were balled on a fist by his sides, almost trembling, but he wouldn't let you see just how much you still have an effect on him.

Right now, all he feels is anger and hatred for what you did. For leaving him. For running off with another man. For loving him only to break his heart. For letting him hold on to your empty promises.

For those two years, he only loathed you and he's not going to be a forgiving man, he'll make sure you regret. He'll make you beg on his knees, the way he did for you.

“I expect you to be in my office in five.”

Now, you're back to square one. Working as his maid was already bad enough back then, so what's going to happen now that you're back to serve him again?

You can't help but notice how much he changed. Somehow, you can tell that he was still the same, only that he was only mad at you. It was obvious already how he's showing indifference only to you but not to anyone else. His bubbly personality that used to welcome you with warm embraces is now replaced with an angry demeanour of a man who cold-heartedly took you away from your family and took you back to the house where you suffered.

How unfair.

This was not your Satoru.

As soon as Satoru turned around and left you standing, he heaved out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest. For the first time since you left, he finally felt his heart beating again.

All throughout those years that you were gone, he relentlessly looked for you. Trying to search your face in unfamiliar places, sometimes getting himself into trouble when he mistakes someone for you. Everyday, he was turning angrier and angrier when you never showed up, while all he needed was proper answers and explanations. He hated all the memory that you had left, and how it tore him to pieces that all of it was just a lie.

He couldn't believe you had the nerve. A woman like you with no name for herself, telling him that a relationship with him was just a mistake as you sought another man. Gojo Satoru was everything anyone could have asked for, so how dare a woman like you? How dare a woman he loved…

Everything comes crashing down into his mind once again. From the first time he saw you and how you've caught his eye. His heart starts to beat frantically, his breath caught into his chest, his tongue tied together. Satoru slumps into his chair as he closes his eyes, letting the memory sink in.

“Who is that woman?” Satoru asked an older servant, seeing your unfamiliar face walking around the garden in a maid uniform as he stared down at you from his window.

“That's [M/L/N]’s daughter. She's here to take her place while her mother is recovering.” The servant answered as she poured him tea.

Satoru watched as you walked quietly, your movements looked calculated and careful. He watched your finger touch a ragged cloth, gracefully cleaning the dirty tables.

From afar, he can see how your skin looked soft and pale. You were a bit thin and looked weak. He can only assume that he could break you with one twist.

Your face didn't have any emotion in it which intrigued him. Even your lips were downturned, like you hated every second of working in his place. You caught his attention in a matter of seconds, a curiosity growing inside him while he watched your every move.

He noticed the way your mood changed when his family's dog, a small golden retriever, came running to you. A smile formed into your face and he swore he could feel all the flowers blooming all around the place. Everything seemed to have lighted up, his heart began to drum in his chest as you kneeled down to the dog, petting and rubbing the cute animal between your hands.

What's so fascinating about you?

He swallowed hard. Satoru felt like a teenage boy realising that he was staring a little too hard. He felt like a stalker for watching you, shivering at his thoughts.

But he wanted to meet you. Something was pulling him to be close to your presence. A magnetic force was drawing him to come near, and it was the very first time that he ever felt like this.

But he'll take his time first. For now, he's going to settle on just watching you from afar, memorising every detail of you, until he is ready.

A knock on the door woke Satoru back to his senses. He straightened up on his seat, erasing the memories out of his head as he coughed. “Come in.”

But how can Satoru completely forget?

You walked inside in your maid uniform, the same dress that you used to wear, and it only took Satoru a matter of seconds for all your pasts to remind him of how much he loved you. He felt a pain in his chest, and for a moment, he wanted to fall back on his knees and beg for you to love him again. But even you had changed.

Satoru was also back to square one. He looks at you, reminded of the first time he had seen your face. The lack of emotion, the frown, the gaze that used to intimidate him, and the wall you had built between the two of you was palpable.

“Take a seat.” Satoru gestured over the chair in front of his table.

He watched you carefully as you stepped inside his office, striding forward with a sense of hurry as you obviously refused to seat. You stood in front of him, an emotion in your eyes that he can't seem to read.

“I have to get back to my family–”

“They are fine.” Satoru immediately cut you off, his voice ringing over your ear. He looked at you with a glare, venom laced in his voice as he says, “You are bound to stay here, as I said so–”

“You can't keep me here!”

Your scream shocked the both of you, but Satoru kept a straight face as he stood up slowly. He chuckled with malice, staring at your helpless state.

“What makes you say that I can't?” He smirked. “I own you now. Every single thing that's yours is also mine, even your family.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, your hands trembling at your side. Your knees felt weak underneath his gaze, burning and crushing your soul.

Everything he said was true. You were in so much debt ever since you left the Gojo mansion, your family almost falling apart if he didn't show up to take you. And now he's claiming every single bit of what's yours, not leaving a single piece behind.

Satoru made it clear when he took you here. He'll pay for everything to save you and your family. Your mother's hospital bill, your father's gambling debts, your brother's education, their food, house, electricity, and all their livings, because you couldn't pay them off by yourself.

So now you're trapped. He's got you wrapped around his fingers.

“You need me, Y/N.” You closed your eyes at his voice, shaking your head in denial. “You can't afford to live without me, and that's the truth.”

It was the truth, Satoru taking her away from her old life.

You were doing just fine when he was gone. But now you don't know anymore.

this is the part 1 of my mini (?) gojo series! i hope you'd like it and anticipate for what's next to come 🥺🫶🏻 [M/L/N] also stand for "mother's last name" in case you didn't knowww ^.^ I also hoped you understood the flashbacks and such.

this is just a prologue of the main story, sooo the real story starts at part 2.

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idleoblivion · 2 days

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"Task Failed Successfully?" Azul Ashengrotto x GN Reader

Synopsis: He’s finally ready to execute his master plan to make you fall in love with him, and it all starts today… the day you planned to confess to him.

Word Count: ~1.4k

A/N: I love Azul he's such a lil dork to me

Warnings: Azul is down pretty bad, he's also a nervous wreck, Floyd and Jade are there for 2 seconds

It started after his overblot. You saw him at his worst, his most emotional and destructive, yet you still treated him so kindly. You didn’t hold it against him or blame him, if anything you were compassionate. He was caught off guard by your sincerity, and how your presence started making his chest feel tight. His persona he worked so hard to maintain at all times wavered whenever you were near. He stuttered, he forgot what he wanted to say, he smiled too wide and laughed too hard. You ruined his composure every time you were around and it was getting harder to pretend you were just a client or friend to him by the day.

The first step was admitting you had become much more important to him than he had anticipated you would, and that he didn’t want to be without you.

The second step was making you feel the same way.

In a school full of eligible bachelors, Azul was not confident in his current position. Suddenly it felt like everyone around you was a potential suitor, and he couldn’t help but worry it was only a matter of time before somebody else asked you out. And your kindness wasn’t exclusive to him, as much as he selfishly wished it was. You were friendly with plenty of students, was he just another friend to you? He couldn’t be, he couldn’t stand it. And that’s where the plan first came to fruition.

It was rather convoluted and even he knew it. But it was necessary, he reasoned, to make sure you had ample opportunity to see him at his best and most attractive. What better way to do that than getting you to work with him?

He could see it all in his head: He’d ask you to meet in his office, convince you to make a deal to work for him, and make you his assistant so you spent your entire shift with him. Then you’d get to watch him run the lounge and maneuver his way into contracts with ease, and he would get to take advantage of your time alone to get to know you even better. He’d use what he learned from your conversations to make himself look even better, until you’re so impressed you can’t help but start falling for him. You’d think he’s so cool and confident and smart and successful and-

“Oya, are you still listening, Azul?”

“I think he’s busy thinking about someone, hehe~”

Azul opens his eyes to see the twins smiling mischievously at each other. They had been walking out of their dorm together when his mind started wandering, now they’re nearly at their classrooms.

“Keep your voice down.” Azul commands, but it doesn’t hold a lot of weight when he’s clearly flustered. “Somebody might hear you.”

The brothers give each other a look, then go right back to smiling. Azul frowns before he reminds them he’ll be late to the lounge after class and to open without him. Then the trio splits, and Azul spots you as you dart into the alchemy classroom before the warning bell rings.

Today, today was going to be the start of everything.

———

After a very distracted school day (and after making sure Floyd actually went back to the lounge), Azul walked with determination to the hall of mirrors. He picked a day both the track and basketball club were busy with practice so he’d be able to get you alone at Ramshackle. He wasn't threatened by Ace or Deuce, but he needed them out the way while he set things in motion. He was so nearly there, all he had to do was sweet talk his way into getting you back to the lounge to sign a contract that would pave the way to your destined love story.

He’s finally at your door, and his stomach twists in a knot. He raises his fist but hesitates to knock, revisiting every line he had planned in his head one final time. A voice from behind him nearly makes him jump out of skin.

“Azul? What are you doing here?” He turns around to see you watching him curiously. He recovers from his surprise quickly and grins at you politely.

“Prefect! I was just looking for you. Do you have a moment?”

“Yeah, sure. I was looking for you too, actually, I went to the lounge and everything. Do you wanna come in?”

That explains how he got to your dorm before you at least, but leaves him with a lot of other questions. What did you want him for? If you were looking for him at the lounge, did you want a deal? He figured he would have to make a very strong case for the benefits of working for him to get you on board, but if you had something you wanted from him too, that might make things easier. He smiles confidently at this turn of events. “Of course.”

He follows you into Ramshackle. It’s not a problem if your conversation happens here instead he figures, as long as everything else still works out the way it’s supposed to. You gesture to the couch and he sits down.

“So, Prefect, what is it you needed to see me about?” He’s expecting you to say something trivial, something like notes for class or help with an assignment. Something he can already use to show you how competent he is, how hard he’d work to help you as your partner, how-

…Why are you looking at him like that?

He grows more confused as your entire demeanor changes. The air gets heavier, more serious and you won’t look him directly in the eyes anymore. You fidget with your hands a bit, a nervous habit of yours he’s picked up on.

“...Maybe you should go first.”

“What makes you say that?” “Mine’s…a whole thing. Plus you might not like it. Or me, after.”

You’ve got him nervous now. Had something bad happened? He was concerned of course, though the thought that you had a more serious issue and came to him of all people for help filled him with a guilty kind of joy. Now was a chance to prove himself as someone reliable and attentive to you.

“I assure you nothing could make me dislike you.” He admits a little more genuinely than he intended to. He clears his throat before quickly trying to move past it. “And I have time. If something or someone is causing you trouble, it can be dealt with. You just have to tell me.”

Perfect, now you would spill, he'd offer to fix your issue in exchange for your employment, you were right where he wanted you...

…Had you been sitting that close to him before? Once he notices your proximity, he can’t help the growing heat in his face and ears.

You lean in a little closer to him and his face rivals an angry Heartslabyul dorm leader’s. You gently place your hand on top of his on the couch and he starts trembling. You look up at him again, and his wide-eyed expression makes you laugh. He’s always liked your laugh, but the way it sounds right now makes his heart flutter.

“You’re sure you want to know?” You’re teasing him now and he knows it, but he can hardly form a thought other than how alluring you look. Your other hand finds its way to push a piece of hair out of his face and he feels like he’s going to combust. He tries to answer, but it comes out as some stuttered gibberish that only makes your smirk grow wider. “Azul, you’re really cute like this.” “C-cute? I don’t…that’s, I-”

“I like you, silly. I was gonna ask you out once I got you alone.”

His whole body tenses up. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. It’s not like it wasn’t supposed to end up here, but he wanted to be suave and cool about it, and here he was a complete mess. He planned to have a few months at least to brace himself before you’d even start flirting with him, now you’re still not letting go of his hand and you’re leaning in even more-

When you kiss him, his mind bluescreens completely. Your lips move softly against his and he can’t breathe. And when you pull away, any remainder of that meticulous plan he came to your door with is gone, erased from his brain. You stay close for a moment and he swears you’ve never looked more captivating.

“...So, what were you gonna ask me for?”

“I…have no idea.”

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst fluff #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 3 days

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something tells me our ghoulie would be fond of period sex (i’ll go to horny jail now)

Bloodletting

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,839

Warnings: smut (18+), blood play, bloody cunnilingus/bloody kisses, period sex, masturbation (male), rough sex, creampie, biting.

Notes: Can't lie, this was my immediate thought watching him tear into that bloody chunk of meat for the first time. I usually try to include at least a little plot, but this is basically all porn. Very fun submission to write; thank you! Please save a good seat for me on the bench in horny jail, I'll be in promptly.

Fun fact: orgasms can help relieve period cramps for some people.

Today had been a poor choice of start point for this long walk.

Normally, trekking across the bombed out western seaboard was strenuous and uncomfortable enough, the deadly sun baking seemingly the entire planet to a crisp, the cloying dehydration, the constant danger that something or someone was around the corner, ready to eat you. It was a far cry from the safety and monotony of the vault you'd grown up in. Usually, you were able to find lots of beauty on the surface, plenty of things to appreciate. But right now everything was just awful and uncomfortable.

Menstruation was such a nightmare topside. The proper products were apparently incredibly difficult to find anymore, leaving you to make the best of things with old torn pieces of clothing and less-than-ideal medical supplies. But these things didn't provide the absorption you'd long been accustomed to, and you kept having accidents the last few days, the result of a heavier-than-average flow. Normally, these things wouldn't bother you, but it was insanely annoying to constantly feel as if you were bleeding through basically the only clothes you had, doubly so when there was no place to clean them or bathe yourself most of the time. Besides, these pants chaffed terribly when they were damp.

Months back, you'd made the choice to ditch the vault suit. It was surreal and sort of sad feeling, packing away what had truly been a symbol of your identity for so long. However, it attracted far too much attention and caused trouble when people assumed they could take advantage of you, so you'd opted to start dressing like a proper Wastelander, boiled leather armor and denim pants. Right now, however, you desperately wished you'd been wearing the suit. The absorbent liner would have saved you some of this embarrassment.

The old ghoul had been telling you some story or another as you mounted a steep hill, your mind tuning in and out in frustration. You were sweaty, cramping, bloated, and bleeding on yourself, and all you wanted was a chance to clean yourself up and sit down for a minute. Eventually, the two of you came across what looked to be the abandoned skeleton of an old repair garage, just barely maintaining its tall stance against the horizon. As the two of you began to pass it by, you paused.

"I need to stop for a bit." you said, frowning at him as he turned his gaze to the position of the sun in the sky and back to you, confusion plain on his face.

"Whassa' matter?" he asked, "You're not usually this pussy about the sun anymore. Been long enough."

He was right, you were usually able to soldier on better than this. Today wasn't one of those days, though.

"I need like ten minutes alone, okay?" you snapped, short of patience. "I just...need it."

Your companion held up his hands in a silent, play-offended gesture of surrender, stepping aside to let you walk into the ramshackle little garage.

"Ten minutes!" he called teasingly behind you, prompting you to roll your eyes despite him not being able to see it.

Dropping your bag against the wall, you quickly toed your boots off so you could shuck your pants to the ground, groaning quietly at the bloody mess between your thighs. Digging some dirty rags out of your bag, you checked the spare canteen you kept undrinkable water in. Almost empty. You wanted to cry.

You could always ask Coop for some of his, since he was prone to drinking from questionable sources. He might even give you some, close as you'd become lately, thanks to a night of whiskey and Jet by the fire that had led to other forms of entertainment.

But you'd rather not have to explain this to him. As you did your best to scrub away the rusty red covering your skin, you wondered if he even remembered that this was something that happened to women. You had no idea what you were going to do with your pants.

Apparently, time had slipped away from you, as he appeared suddenly in the doorway a moment or two later, already speaking to you like he'd been standing there the entire time.

"It's been fifteen minutes, girlie. I'll have you know--" came his halted snark, quickly cut off as the two of you made eye contact, as he took in your nakedness below the waist. You felt a creeping sense of panic, a desire to flee out the broken window to your side. Neither of you said a word, and after a moment, he stepped forward towards you, softly gripping your wrist in his hand and holding it up to examine it. His honeyed eyes flicked back and forth between the soiled rag in your bloodied hand and where you'd been attempting to clean yourself up, briefly moving over to where your pants lay crumpled up on the floor.

"I'm--" you began, wanting to explain that you were fine, but you were quickly and decisively cut off from speaking when he lifted your bloody fingers to his mouth, sucking them between his lips with an obscene sigh. Your jaw fell slack as you watched him lick them clean, feeling like you were having some sort of erotic fever dream you'd wake up from any moment. Your hormones must've been working in tandem with the sun to drive you crazy.

However, it only continued to escalate as he seized you by the wrist, dragging you a few feet forward towards the rickety, grimy couch that leaned against the back wall, shoving you just enough to make you sit right in the center, a stale plume of desert dust filling the air around you as he rucked your hips up against his chest, your calves hooking over his shoulders. One of your flailing, still-socked feet knocked his hat clear off his head, sending it tumbling down to the floor, but he didn't even seem to notice, too preoccupied with running his hands along your inner thighs, smearing through the patches of drying blood there with fascination.

Your whole face burned white-hot, but you continued to watch him closely as his hands converged at your mound, one thumb tracing lightly over your now-swollen slit, just barely grazing your bud and drawing a hiss from between your teeth. However, instead of touching you there again, as you'd hoped he would, both thumbs traced down the line of your labia, parting them softly and spreading you open for his hungry eyes to see.

This new kind of attention made you squirm a bit at its intensity, the movement making your abdominal muscles clench just right to draw a trickle of warmth from between your legs, your face reaching supernova in embarrassment, but before you could pull away, he dove forward, his mouth sealing itself over your cunt and lapping wildly. The feeling was electric and ticklish and sent you clamoring to grab onto anything for leverage, letting out a screech that was half giggle and half moan.

He had done this before, gone down between your legs and licked and tasted and teased you until you couldn't handle it anymore, and always with great enthusiasm (and more than a little smugness, frankly), but never with a hunger like this. His thick tongue traced back and forth along your folds, seeking out every sanguine drop before dipping back down to your entrance, the wriggling muscle slipping inside with ease, drawing out another cry from you.

You were on fire, being teased more than you could handle; his tongue felt amazing, but largely avoided where you really wanted it to be, leaving you pushing and grinding your hips against his face as best as you could in your strange, folded over position. With one proper swivel, you managed to brush your clit against the bony ridge that sat at the top of where his nose would have been, scraping just right and sending you bucking right back at the same angle. The rough way you pushed against him was met by his hands curling under your ass, attempting to yank you even closer to his face as you felt that knot in your gut begin to tighten.

"Oh god, Coop, I'm gonna cum." you gasped, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs pulsed around his head. The older man, typically quite silent for most of the performance, let out a rather loud groan at that, and the sound was enough to push you right into a tense, crying orgasm, your little mewls ringing off the ancient concrete walls. If he were any other man, you'd worry about smothering him between your damp thighs, your scrambling hands pressing into the back of his head.

Fortunately, Cooper Howard wasn't just any man.

He continued to fuck you with his tongue through your climax, dragging it out for what felt like minutes. However, once you finally came down from that euphoric peak, he didn't stop, his tongue continuing to slather across you in full, wide strokes, his fingers moving up to tease at your oversensitive clit.

This, too, he had done before, this beautiful torture of keeping you constantly on the verge of a new orgasm despite still riding the wave of your current one. You both loved and hated it, feeling like every nerve in your body was alive with electricity, but simultaneously on the verge of pain from all the sensation. Presently, you loved it a lot more than you hated it, feeling the tight, cramping muscles in your belly relax just a little with your release. Glimpsing down at him once more, you could see that he'd tugged his hard cock free from its confines, jerking himself enthusiastically.

The ghoul's lips wrapped back around your clit, long, nimble fingers probing your saliva-slicked entrance. Two of them slid inside to the hilt before you even really registered their presence, causing you to hiss at the slight burn of the rad-rough flesh against your sensitive insides. The suction on your bud soothed the burn, allowing you to relax, and soon a third was added alongside the first two, quickly pushing you into another sudden and intense climax, washing over you like a tidal wave as he stretched you. When he eventually pulled his hand away, it was half-covered in red.

You were still trembling hard as he quickly worked his way back down your thighs, swiping up anything he may have missed. The sensation of his tongue running along your plush flesh made you giggle, earnest and breathless, but the sound was immediately cut off with a whine when he suddenly turned and viciously sunk his teeth into the meat of your inner thigh, not hard enough to break the skin, but damn near.

This, he had never done before.

Of course, you knew the man was intimately familiar with sinking his teeth into human flesh, but feeling them against you didn't frighten you as you expected it might, the sensation exhilarating and primal. The searing, pinching pain made you squeal, and one of his ungloved hands jammed up against your lips to silence you, filling your nose with the smell of iron and gunpowder. Come the morning, you'd be sporting a gnarly bruise there. The knowledge sent another hot tremble down your spine.

Unlatching his jaw from your leg, he pulled himself up to his full kneeling height, right even with you, a wild look in his eyes you weren't sure you'd seen before. So often he had the brim of his hat to obscure them, but now they stared, wide and glassy, into your own.

His fingers fisted into the already wild hair at the back of your head, pulling your forward into a passionate, metallic-tasting kiss. You could feel the way your face attempted to stick to his where he'd smeared your blood around your mouth with his hand. Quickly, he began to lean forward over you, pressing you into the mildew covered cushions as he pulled himself on top of you. The dry-rotted frame of the couch groaned loudly in protest at the additional weight, squeaking and sighing out curses as he repositioned your legs along his hips, falling right into place to rub his throbbing prick against you. Another throaty noise left you, strangled and awkward, but you were past being able to be embarrassed right now.

It distracted you just enough when the old cowboy dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his lips dancing along your pulse point, that you didn't tense when he pushed his way inside you, burying himself nearly to the hilt in one push. Both of you let out soft, satisfied groans as you stretched taut around him, clenching hotly already after all the attention he'd given you, his heavy breathing in your ear making every hair on your body stand on end.

For a short moment, he allowed you to adjust to his girth, warm hands pushing your shirt up to expose your breasts to him. His bare hands felt like they were everywhere, swiping affectionately against your face, tugging and pinching at your nipples, eventually settling into your hair, holding your head steady and forcing you to look at him as he began to fuck you. It didn't take long before he had you built right back up, the rub of his pelvic bone against you too good.

"Go on, gimme one more, baby. I know you can." he huffed, his warm breath tickling you just right. His thumb was suddenly strumming against your puffy, sore clit again, and tears brimmed in your eyes as your muscles seized once again, whimpering almost pitifully as you gave him what he wanted.

"Attagirl." he praised, running the blunted edge of his teeth along your throat as your body tugged at him. Your breathing was hard to control, making you see spots as he shifted your calves back over his shoulders, basically folding you in half once more as he pulled himself up higher and began to rut into you in earnest. The blunt head of his cock slammed into your tender cervix like this, making you jump and whine, but your legs only tightened around his shoulders, pulling him closer as he used your body to get himself off.

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and the entire couch frame collapsed into a plume of dust, even worse than before, making you screech in shock. Cooper, however, seemed to barely notice, his pace not even slowing as he shifted you a few inches away from a busted 2x4 sticking out in your direction, pressing you harder into the cushions that were now trapped beneath you. Nevertheless, he did seem to be making sure you were okay in his own way, his wild eyes and insistent hands checking over every visible inch as he continued to pump between your thighs. When he dropped his mouth to your breasts, you throbbed around him, cooing as he sucked and nipped at your breasts.

"Fuck." he growled at the sensation, his hips slapping against you even harder, but in less coordinated strokes, his head heavily dropping back into the crook of your neck again, his entire weight resting on you now.

As you felt him begin to throb inside you, signaling his own release, you also felt those strong teeth latch onto the sensitive skin where your neck met your shoulder, digging deep into the smooth muscle as you screamed. You could hear your lover groaning loudly as he gave you a few more rough strokes, his teeth keeping firm at your neck as he pulsed every last drop of himself inside you. Beyond the pinching pain repeating itself, you could feel the burn of him sucking hard on the flesh between his teeth, trying to mark you up as visibly as possible. Remarkably, this was enough to push your oversensitive body into one last muted orgasm, leaving you shuddering against his chest.

Once his teeth released you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, carefully flipping you so that you laid across his chest, the leather of his clothing sticking eagerly to your sweaty skin. No one said anything for a few minutes, his fingers dancing along your spine, tracing the outline of the bite on your shoulder and earning a small whimper, which he chuckled at. Things were strangely blissful.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna need another fifteen minutes, boss." you sighed eventually, snuggling your face against the smooth leather of his vest and breathing in the smell of violence and sex.

"You can have ten." he responded, drawing a look from you until the hand that had been kneading away at your ass cheek slipped down further, rough fingers teasing at your abused entrance once more, pushing what was leaking out of you back inside.

"Oh? And what happens then?" you asked, trying hard to keep your hips still against his sinful hand and failing.

"Then we're going again."

#men who jerk off when they eat pussy go to heaven #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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cheeseceli · 2 days

Text

Won't let go

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: headcanons, fluff

Prompt: "I swear to God when I come home I'll hold you so close, I'll never let go"

Warnings: Hyunjin is an idol, reader lives in Korea with him (no nationality mentioned)

A/n: you have never seen hyunjin and James Arthur in the same place | join the 1k event!

Lately, Hyunjin has been smiling a lot whenever he's at the airport, just a few hours from home

And he swears he loves his job, he really does, but he also admits he doesn't like everything that comes with it

And one of the things he dislikes was being away from home for so long

Away from you

That's precisely the reason why paparazzi and fans always see him smiling after landing in Korea after a tour or outside promos

Because he's so close from seeing you again

He can barely contain all his excitement

He's always at the front, bodyguards and staff constantly reminding him of walking slowly

And then he enters the car and I almost feel bad for his designated driver

He's often asking how long it will take to reach the destination, what time it is, if the driver can go to some shortcuts, if it's really needed to stop at the gas station...

The driver might as well start speeding just to get rid of him already

Of course, he asked to stop by at your place

It honestly surprised the members how he was able to jump out of the car so fast without tripping like he did

And in less than 5 seconds he was already at your doorstep, knocking at the door unafraid of your neighbours who were already sleeping

And in less than 5 seconds you opened the door

You barely had the time to see him as he hugged you tighter than you thought it was possible

That's how you both spent the following minutes: tears falling from your eyes as you realised how much you missed his warmth and his face buried in the crook of your neck, wishing he could actually merge with you

Those are the moments where no one hears a word from Hyunjin for the next three days or so

The company, the fans and even his members wouldn't know anything about his whereabouts

When he finally comes home to you, the only thing he wants to do is to be around you to try and compensate for all the time he's been away

And if it was up to him, he would never let go

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken Beauty

Thank you for reading <3 don't forget the feedback!

Taglist (open): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @strangergraphics

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g0dlyunsub · 1 day

Note

hey!!! Ugh I just love your account! I have a request for Spencer Reid x fem reader!! Can you do one where he is always working and it makes the reader upset bc he is cancelling dates and coming home late and kinda neglects her feelings and doesn't really notice how much it affects her and how sad she gets and then he misses their anniversary dinner and she breaks and tells him that it makes her upset when he's gone all the time and he just feels so awful bc he's so in love with her and never wants her to feel that way because of him and apologizes and reassures her and makes sure she feels loved!!

ty for the request and i loved the idea for this one!

wishful thinking.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: angst with a fluffy ending; very mild makeout session at the end :3

word count :: 2.4k

author’s note :: i kind of giggled at the ending as i was writing it, but i’m pretty proud of how this one turned out!

accompanying song :: neverthere by xander

spencer’s phone is quite literally the bane of your existence.

you know what to expect whenever it rings, so you hate when it actually does – its earthquaking vibrations and trilled beeps tear the happiness straight out of you.

it’s the second date in a row that he’s had to pass, and you wonder if you should just stop trying so hard. was it selfish to want to have him all to yourself, to have him seated right across from you, sharing your laughter as you pass him his plated pasta? were you expecting too much, imagining a serene life with him ten years down the road, perhaps with kids or pets of your own? was it unfair to think that you could craft a lie, telling him your stomach hurt really bad, so bad that you would have to curl up on the floor and pray he’d stay by your side just this once to comfort you?

all you ever wanted was spencer. more specifically, you wanted spencer during your first three dates, when he’d silence all of his phone calls, and wave them off like nothing even though you insisted he take them. maybe if you didn’t bring up the importance of taking work calls, none of this would have ever happened. maybe it was all coming back to bite you for your non-confrontational nature, since you could never plead him to actually stay.

but he’s your boyfriend… and that’s all that matters, right? after all, he has lives to save – people whose names are called out during prayers day and night by their loved ones as they cling on to the sliver of hope that your boyfriend and his team promise during the darkest hours. granted, spencer would drop everything if you were in a similar situation, but none of your problems have actually been life-threatening. but a girl can dream, can’t she? your first anniversary date was when spencer promised to make amends, a formal compensation for all of the past dates that he missed and left you feeling empty on your shared bed, stains of mascara chalked up on your dry cheeks.

“i’m so sorry, honey, i’ve just been… called in for work,” spencer stands, dusting the napkin that was folded nicely on his lap. you watch as he takes a sip of his glass of water, then walks over to you to plant a kiss on your forehead.

he runs his fingers along the velvety texture of the sleeves of your dress, and you offer him a weak smile.

“it’s okay, duty calls, right?” you feel the tears surfacing and you have to fight yourself to not blink. it’s too early to cry.

“i-it’s a really bad one this time, and i hate to do this on such an important day-” spencer begins to apologize frantically, and his face marks an expression of genuine concern with his brows furrowing and lips twitching.

“it’s okay. you need to go, i understand.” you state plainly, and you immediately feel shameful – your words are too assertive and snarly for how you normally respond.

spencer pauses briefly, fidgeting with his fingers, before he gives a slight nod in your direction. he then walks over to the couch, grabs a book, and tightens the clasps on his bag.

“i’ll be back as fast as i can,” spencer utters quietly and walks out of the door. when the apartment door locks with a click, you break down immediately.

at first, the tears fall one by one. but then, a salty stream evident of pure emotional wreckage makes its way into the slight gap of your lips, and it’s an unstoppable domino effect. your shoulders shudder and heave as you struggle to catch breaths in between, and you splutter cries of your boyfriend’s name.

maybe it would’ve been better to just stay as conversational partners, to exchange updates once in a while when he’d actually commit to a time. it was your fault for getting your hopes up high, and all of this – fanciful dinner and dressing your best for the occasion – was wishful thinking. you just didn’t want to admit it.

“y/n?”

you look up to see spencer in front of the doorway, and his bag that was barely holding on to his shoulder drops to the floor with a thud.

you quickly look away, brushing the tears away with one arm and sniffle before choking out a response.

“i thought you left already, why are you here?” again, your words come out icier than you had hoped and hit you with a sharp pang of guilt.

spencer narrows his eyes ever so slightly as if he’s scrutinizing you, observing your body language. it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re upset.

“i was going to. realized i forgot-,”

he clears his throat when you raise your eyebrows and proceeds, "i misplaced my wallet."

he slips out of his loafers, shoving aside his pair of converses that lie adjacent to your pretty pair of heels. he walks over to you, and you realize that you’re still seated at the dining table. you must look so stupid right now, waiting as if he’d just be returning from a bathroom break.

“i need to head out, but i promise… i promise we’ll talk about this really soon. we’ll have the anniversary dinner and-”

“did you even try?” you blurt out, and you look up at him with your puffy eyes glazed with tears.

a deathly silence clouds over the entire apartment, and you’re thinking of two options: leave the apartment and go run to a friend’s place, or confront him and see whether making amends – again, wishful thinking – would be possible.

“y/n. please believe me when i say that i’ve tried to, i’ve tried-”

you slam a hand to the table before standing up, your face twisting into an expression of outrage.

“no, because then you would’ve silenced it. you would’ve cut the call, just like you used to.” you fire your words at him as your hair sticks to the drying tears on your cheeks, and you begrudgingly wipe at your face.

a slow sigh escapes from spencer’s lips, and he looks at you with those eyes – the eyes that seemingly warn you, saying you don’t want to go there. not right now.

but you double down on him, the rage fueling your words as you lash out.

“it was just this one time. i only wanted you to stay for dinner just this one time.” you helplessly drop your hands to your sides, the tears landing on the floor with soft plops.

“i know. and i’m terribly sorry.” spencer bites his bottom lip and takes a step toward you. but you take a step back, and maybe that pulls a string between the two of you, because you can see how his shoulders tense up.

“look, can we talk about this when i get back? i’ll make it up to you, i swear.” he combs through his hair, the stress almost palpable as it leaks from his shaking fingers.

while you know he has to head out again, the way he so easily brushes off the conversation like it’s something he doesn’t even want to think about feeds into your disbelief. soon, however, your anger subsides into a tired frown.

“i don’t know, you might come home late… when i’m asleep or something.” you look at the wall where a photo of the two of you is framed, and you weakly smile at how happy you seemed then.

“i’ll give you a call, is that okay?” he searches your face for any signs of approval, but you’re zoned out thinking about the past, of how everything used to be.

“whatever, just go.” you wave him off and walk to the couch, where you lie down and turn against him to face the plush fabric.

spencer sighs, and his hand looms over your head momentarily before he grabs his wallet from the table. you hear a faint sorry trail from behind as he leaves the room, and your nails claw at the arms of the couch before the darkness cradles you once again.

it’s 10:30 pm, and you hear the doorknob click again. you had just cleaned up the dishes after eating dinner alone and left his portion in the fridge. you were now changed into your pajamas and getting ready for your night routine.

you peep out of your bedroom door to see spencer, his suit all wet. he looks at you as he takes off his shoes, and a sullen expression paints his face. did it start raining after he left? you realize that you were mostly cooped up in the bedroom since his departure, so you wouldn’t have known.

bravely looking up at him in the eye, you state: “you came back early.” you hate how unwelcoming you sound in his own home.

he pauses before he sets his wet bag on the floor and removes his blazer jacket to throw over a chair.

he approaches you, hands in his pockets and hair twisted in matted curls.

“hm.” he grabs a towel from the closet and makes his way to the shower, brushing past your shoulder. you feel an icy shudder spread through your spine after he closes the bathroom door.

was he giving you the silent treatment right now?

you hear the water start from the bathroom and you sink into your bed while turning to twist the lamp lights on.

after all that torturous waiting you went through, he was giving you the silent treatment?

fifteen minutes later, a knock reverberates from the other side of the bedroom door, and even though you don’t respond, spencer steps in. he’s changed into a t-shirt and black pajama pants, and he drops next to you on the bed.

“i’m taking the week off.”

the sentence startles you, and it’s something so unexpected you choke on your own saliva.

“what, what do you mean you’re taking the week off?” you ask him, finally turning to face him in the eyes. his brown irises blaze into your own.

“i’ve been pushing off everything you wanted to do with me — things that I wanted to do with you — and i’ve just been…” he turns away to play with the wrinkles on his pants as he speaks, picking out the dust that lies embedded between the folds.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a deep sigh. he continues, “i don’t know if it’s all worth it.”

silence casts a blanket over the two of you.

“spence,” you say after a while, and hesitantly lay a hand on his thigh.

“nothing’s more important in the world to me than you. you and your happiness. i know you love this job and i know you love helping people. you’re such a kind hearted man, and it’s why i fell in love with you in the first place.”

when spencer gives you no response, you confess: “spence, i get jealous sometimes.”

this time his eyes widen, and he looks at you.

“you do?” he asks softly, peering into your eyes and you cave instantly.

“of course i do. it’s… everybody wants you, spencer. we all need you, whether we realize it or not.”

he scoffs.

“but i only want you.”

his voice is raspy yet mellow at the same time, the smoothest stream of sweetness seeping through your eardrums. god. you can never stay mad at this gorgeous man, the same man that made you cry on numerous occasions just counting the past week.

“you need to do more than that, if you… you know.” you quietly murmur as you fidget with the hem of your nightgown.

“i know,” he speaks with a hushed tone. “i told hotch, and i told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not. the demands of this job are… tough, but i don’t want to miss out on all the things we planned together. i won’t.”

you start bawling right when he delivers the last word, and all the tears that you were holding back spill over your flushed cheeks. your boyfriend immediately leans in to console you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his chin rests on top of your head.

it’s okay, he murmurs reassuringly. you ease into his touch, and you realize how much you missed this. how much you missed spending time with him.

his left hand tugs lightly at your soft hair while his right rubs your back in smooth circles.

“i missed you,” you speak with a hushed voice, looking up into his eyes as a glassy coat of tears blur your vision.

he cups your face with his hands before whispering, “i missed you too.”

you continue to blabber words of love-stained anguish but he cuts you off short, pulling you in for a short kiss on your lips, which are now tainted with your tears.

“you taste… salty,” he whispers, giving you a slight smile as he brushes off the rest of your tears that weigh down on your eyelashes.

“it’s because of you, silly,” you drawl as you taste the salty residue of your tears.

yeah, spencer responds hesitantly. but he’s wearing a small smile, tilting his head to one side as his eyes emit a glint of tranquilizing peace.

he reaches into his pajama pocket and takes out a piece of candy. you curiously watch as his fingers quickly remove the wrapper, revealing a glazed cherry-flavored sphere.

“may i?” he asks, and his faint voice is a gravitational force that you can’t resist.

you briefly respond with a lazy hm? before he plops the candy into your mouth and kisses you again. the sweetness explodes like fireworks with his warm breath, and the sticky layer of sugar melts like acid on your intertwined tongues. you let out a satisfied hum when you pull back, and it’s undeniably attractive the way spencer licks the corner of his lips.

a tear falls from your eye again, and this time, it’s not out of sorrow.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #mgg x reader

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meowhara · 3 days

Note

when will we get to see mafia miguel x bunny reader again I’m wanna read more also love ur fictional stories ❤️❤️

thank you so so much for liking any of my stories and as another form of apology for my disappearance, I made a little drabble for our beloved bunny reader!

‎‧₊˚✧ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲? 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲?

♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ mafia!miguel o'hara x hybrid!bunny reader

cw : miguel's ex (I just feel like this should be a warning)

you were waiting for Miguel to come home from work when all of the sudden an uninvited guest barged her way in into his place

You’re just being dramatic, you thought. He was just going to work, the only time where he would never allow you to be by his side. His answer never changed. A big no to every promise you made to behave your best so you could come with him throughout the day.

The slow mornings are your favorite. Being awoken to Miguel’s lazy yet loving kisses. Tender kisses planted all over your face. You wish it could always be like this. Yet goodbyes always sneaked its way into your life.

It feels lonely without him. He is all you dedicated yourself to. It was what you have been taught from the start. Loyalty, beyond everything.

You lie on his bed alone. His side of the bed was cold, all warmth gone from being abandoned for hours on end. You weren’t the type to be a clingy one but his attention makes you feel safe. His actions screamed promises that he would never leave you again. That he would shower you with love and care, the only thing you never thought you would experience.

They’d shrug whenever you asked when he’ll come back. Giving you no reassurance whatsoever. Therefore, you need to reassure yourself. Bewilderment across their faces the moment you come out from his room. How on Earth did Miguel’s coat end up in your hands? You obviously wouldn’t tell them. But right now you needed a tingle of his existence with you, his scent. They did try to take it away from you, but you were so persistent and won’t let go of the massive piece of clothing that fits you like a dress. Guess the best idea is to let you have it all to yourself, rather than having their heads ripped off from making you cry by their own boss.

So here you are, curling up on the couch, drowned by the massive coat that covers almost the entirety of your body. The gentle conversations from the TV in the background filled your ears. Your head buried into the fine material the coat made out of.

“Ma’am, please leave. Boss is not here at the moment.” A man’s muffled voice can be heard from outside the front door, making you shoot your head up in curiosity. “You’re lying! I know he’s inside! He’s just avoiding me like the motherfucking coward he is!” Another voice replied and it’s a woman’s voice. The door slammed open before a woman with light skin tone and short brown hair just about her shoulder rushed into the house in an aggressive manner. “Where is he? O’Hara!” She shouted, looking absolutely furious. His underling just sighs. Too tired to deal with the stone head of a woman. “Please leave. He doesn’t want you here.” The man spoke, forcing gentleness into his voice. Just who is this woman? Barging into someone’s house like it was hers in the first place. “I’m not leaving until I force a slap into that fucker’s face. And don’t you dare tell me what to do. You’re nobody but a loyal dog that works for him.” She sounded like a little kid. Throwing a tantrum after not getting what she wanted.

Her heels clicked on the floor in hurry, passing by the living room where you’re curled up in before she paused on her tracks.

“Who is that?”

“Nobody. Now please leave.” He raised his voice. Patience wearing thin from how stubborn she is.

“You’re telling me, nobody is sitting in there right now as we talk?” She pushed the man aside by his shoulder before making her entrance into the living room.

After a second of silence in between both of you, you stood up to your feet. Feeling the need to say something in order not to come out as rude. “Hello…” You greeted meekly. Her eyes scanned over you as she stood there with her hand on her hip. Your bunny ears were so strange in her eyes.

She recognizes the coat that was resting on your small form. It's his and he would never let any soul touch anything that was his, unless… “Take it off.” She commanded but you shook your head in refusal. “I said take it off. Before I rip it off of you.” She scoffed at your attempt to keep it to yourself before walking over towards you and started pulling on the coat. “If I told you to take it off. Then take. It. Off''

“Ma’am—“ The moment the insolent woman laid her hands on you, Miguel’s men tried to stop her by pulling her off of you. But she didn’t budge, “Don’t touch me! You have no right to touch me.” She slapped the man’s grip away until all he could do now is to watch her assaulting your innocence.

She continued to yank the piece of clothing off until your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re clutching onto it. You eventually gave up, letting her forcefully snatch the coat off your body. You thought she’d just left after all of that, but she’s not done. Your presence was like the fuel to her hatred and anger towards Miguel. So she decided to put an end to this and claim her rightful place again by his side. And the only thing stopping her to do so is you. What kind of girl are you anyway that Miguel chose you over her? She panted and threw the coat aside before she regained her composure. You keep your head low. Making eye contact with the beast is the last thing you want to do.

“Leave.”, She waited for you to move your legs and leave. Not from the living room, but from his house. She waited and still didn’t get any reaction from you. She expected you to just scramble off like the loser of a girl you are. Instead of scrambling off you stood there quietly, worsening her madness. Her hand made its way onto your face. Gripping both of your cheeks tight with her palm and forcing you to look into your eyes. She’s satisfied over tears in your eyes, satisfied that she successfully made you cry over something like this.

“Leave this house and I won’t hurt you.” She threatened and it surprised her when you pushed her off and tried to run but she yanked your hand and pulled on one of your fluffy ears. Forcing you to stand still in front of her. “Listen here, you little pest. Miguel doesn’t love you. So don’t get any idea in that little head of yours, that he would actually keep you.”

You fighting back instead of running was the least thing she expected you to do. Yet your claws dug deep into her hand which was still tightly gripping your ear earning a loud whine from how painful her doing is towards you. “You little—“, She hissed through gritted teeth. Her free hand raised high in the air, prepared to slap you.

However, the quick motion of her hand was interrupted. She froze right there and then when she saw no other but Miguel stood in front of her with her free hand trapped in his tight grip. “M— Miguel.” She stuttered and let go of your ear. The smile on her face was dismissed by a hard slap across her face. Miguel slapped her, hard enough to return her senses into her mind. She stumbled back when he let her hand go. She stood there in silence with her palm resting on the same spot on her cheek where Miguel had slapped her. “How dare you!” She squealed.

He stood there with such a calm manner, though both you and Dana knew that calmness was never a good thing when it comes to Miguel and this kind of situation. He turned his back on her and crouched beside you as you cried on the floor. The way he tried to gently soothe you were like daggers stabbed into her heart. She couldn’t believe he would stoop so low and replace her with someone else like you. Someone who’s weak and clinging onto him like a leaf that was to be blown away by the wind.

“After all this time, you’re going to throw me away just like this?!” She shouted, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. “I bet that you don’t even love her. You’re just using her for her body! The only reason for you to keep her is only because you enjoy fucking her! Then you’ll abandon her like you did to me! You’re supposed to love me, not her…”

“Can’t you see that I’m here for you? Miguel?!” He stood up and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close so that their faces were almost touching. “I didn’t abandon you. You did. You cheated. You think I didn’t know about you dating my brother behind my back?” Her body felt weak the moment truth escaped through the mouth of the man she once dated. “You should be grateful that I didn’t take matters into my own hands and pushed you away instead. But you still dare to barge into my house and harassed her?!” His breath hits her face as he continues to yell at her like rays of anger. “I loved you and this is how you pay me back? Answer me, Dana!”

The room falls quiet after his roar has died down. “Leave… And never come back. I never wanted to see you again.” He growls into her ear before pushing her away by the shoulder. His words broke her down into tears before she ran off and slammed his front door hard then drove off.

He took his place once again by your side as you tensed up in fear after watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your own eyes, once again dropping your head down and it has been an ongoing habit by now. “Love? What’s wrong?” Miguel asked, making sure that you’re okay or he might have to take a visit to that bitch Dana. He saw how tense you are. Probably shocked from how harsh he treated his own ex. “You hit her…”

“I know baby, I have to.”

“But you said— you said you would never hit a woman.” You said in between sobs.

“She’s no woman if she tries to hurt you, she’s a monster. I’m doing this for you. So you’ll always stay safe. I would never hit you nor hurt you, that I promise.”

“Really?”

“Of course baby.” He kisses you tears away before taking his coat and scooping you into it with one force. Turning you into his little burrito, wrapped up in his coat. A couple giggles erupted from your mouth. He carried you in his arms and started walking upstairs. “I see you dare to get your hands on my coat.”

“You were gone for so long.” You whine.

He laughed, “I was only gone for the day, it’s not that long.”

He opened the bedroom door before setting you down slowly on the bed then lay down beside you. “Let me make it up to you, what do you say baby?”

a/n : I guess there's only one thing that the whole miguel o'hara fandom could agree on. the fact that we all hate dana d'angelo

#yandere writing #yandere mafia #yandere #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #hybrid reader #mafia fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader

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uzurakis · 19 hours

Note

PLS I BEG U, can u do a falling into arguments but this time with nanami?

FALLING INTO ARGUMENTS!?

featuring: nanami kento. yuuta okkotsu. fushiguro toji.

n. yes nonnie, no worries! thank you for requesting ^__^ PART 1 HERE

NANAMI KENTO

the exhaustion from nanami's long day at work seemed to radiate off him, his shoulders slumped and his expression weary.

"you just don't understand," he sighed, his voice heavy with frustration. "i can't keep up with everything all the time."

your heart sank at his words, the sting of hurt creeping into your chest. "i'm trying, nanami..” you said softly with voice trembling slightly. "but i don’t like it when you throw your frustrations on me." nanami's gaze twiched with regret, but his exhaustion seemed to overshadow it. "i know, and i'm sorry," he muttered, his tone lacking conviction. "i didn't mean to take it out on you."

tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "i just wish we could talk it you instead of you bottling it up," you muttered.

nanami reached out to touch your hand, but his touch felt cold and distant. "i'll try," he said, his voice hollow. "but i can't promise anything. i’m sorry. but i’ll try.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU

tension buzzed in the air as you and yuuta faced one other in the room. the argument had swiftly escalated due to unacknowledged inconveniences and miscommunications.

"i can't keep doing this, yuuta," you said, your voice tinged with frustration, "you always seem to go ahead with whatever you want, regardless of how i feel about it."

yuuta's expression remained impassive, his eyes avoiding yours as he fidgeted with his hands. "i just thought it would be easier this way," he grumbled.

however, easy wasn't what you needed. you needed to be heard, that your thoughts were important. "it's not about making things easier," you said, your tone harder now. "it's about respecting what i feel and not doing things your own way because you feel that’s more acceptable."

he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "i know, and i'm sorry," yuuta said, tinged with regret, "i just... i get caught up in the moment and i don't think."

for a minute, quiet fell between you, the weight of unspoken words filling the space. and as you sat there, it dawned on you that perhaps this cycle of disagreements and apologies was a pattern neither of you could escape.

FUSHIGURO TOJI

"toji, i really need to talk to you about something," you said hesitanly, your heart heavy with the weight of your concerns.

toji glanced at you briefly, a distracted smile flashing across his face. "hm?" he replied, his tone casual, as if he were barely listening.

you swallowed hard, pushing past the knot of frustration building in your throat. "i've been feeling really overwhelmed lately," you confessed, "and i would appreciate if you’re here for me."

toji's response was a nonchalant shrug, his attention already drifting away from you. "ah, it's probably not that big of a deal," he said, dismissing your words, "you'll get over it."

but it was a big deal to you, and toji's lack of concern only served to deepen the sense of isolation you felt. "it's not that simple, fushiguro toji," you said, more frustrated, "i need you to take this seriously."

his expression hardened slightly at your words, his indifference giving way to annoyance. "look, i'm sorry if you're upset," he said, tone defensive, "but i can't drop everything to deal with your problems right now."

the words stung, a painful reminder of how alone you felt in your struggles. "i'm not asking you to drop everything," you replied, "i'm just asking for your support."

but toji's attention had already shifted, and he continued gazing at the room around you. and while you sat there, the weight of your troubles greater than ever, you couldn't help but feel as if you were dealing with them alone.

@uzurakis — rqs are open ^^

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rainylana · 2 days

Text

“It’s just a cut.” Part three!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

warnings: physical abuse, mentions of injuries and wounds, emotional turmoil, angst and lots of tears, readers mother is in jail, language, hospitals, reader and eddie are at heavy odds, mentions of betrayal and broken trust. let me know if i missed anything! original request by @h-ness1944

note: i hope everyone is doing okay! enjoy this new instillation of the series, and let me know what you thought about it! this particular series seems to take a toll, so please share your thoughts! it means the world to me!!:) as of right now, this is the final chapter. the ending isn’t necessarily a cliffhanger, but it’s not exactly a solid ending, either! hope you enjoy!

You had shut the world out and everyone in it, refusing to speak or comply with anyone. You were throwing a tantrum, you knew that, but you were too heartbroken to care. Eddie had betrayed you, the one person you loved most in the world had done what you had asked not to do. You wouldn’t talk to the cops. You begged Eddie not to, begged him to keep his silence, but it was clear his feelings hadn’t changed. He couldn’t do it.

He told the cops everything. From every bruise and wound he had tended, to the aches and cracks in your heart from harsh words. Of course, the police wanted to hear it from you, but from the extent of your injuries, they knew Eddie wouldn’t have been making it up.

The tried to talk to you multiple times, so did the nurses and your surgeon. Wayne tried, Eddie begged. The kids came in, so did Robin and Steve, but it was to no avail. It felt as if the whole world knew your secret. You felt nothing but shame and embarrassment, and the worst of all, betrayed and alone.

Your dad had been notified and was on the way, but the last thing you wanted was for family drama. You wanted to rot in that bed, and if you had it your way, you surely would. It had been almost two days since you last spoke to anyone. They’d given up, but not Eddie. He was determined to make you understand. He couldn’t loose you. A life without you in was one he didn’t want to have to live.

And as far as your mom went, you felt cold and empty. You didn’t know why. You didn’t care about your injuries, you’d been hurt before. You didn’t care about the mean things she had said before she pushed you down the stairs. You simply just didn’t care anymore. You didn’t want to see her, but you wished everything could go back to the way it was, as sick as it seemed. You were too hurt, too betrayed to feel anything else. All you felt was grief, and a horrible ache in your stomach.

You were to be on bedrest for the next three weeks so your wounds could heal properly, and you couldn’t wait to get the bandage off your nose so you could breath again. You looked terrible. As the days sat in your bruises began to change shape and color, your face decorated with marks of angry purple and red shades.

The only thing that could be heard in the room was the ticking of the clock, which happened to be running five minutes slow. You could barely move, only laying flat on your back with your head turned toward the window. There were so many damn flowers everyone you felt as if you were living in a greenhouse.

Eddie had resorted to sitting outside your room. You’d made it very clear you didn’t want to see him, but he refused to leave you completely. He’d come in every now and then, asking if you needed anything, tearing up with another I’m sorry. He never got a response.

If he loved you like he said he would, he wouldn’t have betrayed you. He wouldn’t have broken your trust like he did. He wouldn’t have turned your entire world upside down and ripped out your heart. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at him the same again.

•

“Ed, don’t you think you should go home and rest?” Wayne stood behind Eddie, watching him as he stared at stuffed animals in the gift shop of the hospital.

“I’m fine.” His voice was gruff and cold, almost matching yours the last time you spoke to him.

He was indeed, not fine, not in the slightest. He was completely pale and malnourished, hadn’t eaten in days or taken a shower. He hadn’t slept in almost five days, not properly, anyways. The heart in his chest that kept him alive was breaking second by second, and he wondered if it would completely shatter inside of him.

“Don’t start that with me.” Wayne comes up to the side of his nephew, glancing down at the teddy bear in his hands. “You’re not fine. You need sleep. I’ll stay with y/n. You go home and rest.”

“Wayne.” Eddie stressed, placing down the teddy bear, twirling around toward the exit of the shop. “Stop. Leave me alone.” He walked as quickly as he could out of the store, ignoring the have a good day from the check out lady. He walked with angry, heavy steps, so quickly that his hair bounced with each step of his boots. He could hear his uncle trailing behind him.

“I can’t leave her, Wayne.” He stopped in front of the elevator, pushing the button with a ringed finger. “If you want to go home go ahead, but I’m staying put.” The elevator opened and he was walking inside, leaning against the metal wall with crossed arms. “Are you coming or not?”

Of course, Wayne followed, not ready to give up on his son.

“You’re just as stubborn as she is, you know?” The old man said gruffly, the hot temperature of the elevator making him sweat. “You’re no good to her like that. You’re dead on your feet, boy.”

Eddie stared at the floor and ignored every word, at least tried to, and thought about you staring at the wall, the same spot that you had for the last two days. Would you ever speak to him again? Was any of this worth it? Would the two of you ever be the same? He knew the answer already, whether the two of you were together or not, nothing would be the same in your relationship. That was inevitable.

•

Your nose killed you, your face aching with the weight of your tears that had your bones throbbing with pain. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your sobs, your mouth clamped shut as to not alert anyone that you were awake. It was almost four in the morning and you’d awaken up from another bad dream. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried.

You were just so sad. You missed your mom, you’d come to that conclusion. You missed her and wanted to be home. You wanted to see your dad. You wanted to be in your own bed. But most of all, you wanted Eddie to hold you in his arms, wanted him to tell you that everything would be okay and that he loved you. You craved him more than anything.

But where did you both stand? The last thing you told him was that you’d never speak to him again, you’d threatened to break up with him. Yet he had stayed. He hadn’t left at all. Or had he? You hadn’t seen him almost all day. The thought made you sob, hoping to god that he was still outside your room.

You looked to the door, flexing your leg. You were barely able to stand with help from the nurses, you surely wouldn’t make it out there on your own. You whimpered and fell back into the bed, covering your face with your good arm, the other now in a cast, and cried brokenly.

“Y/n?”

You jumped and uncovered your face, eyes widening at the familiar face. “Wayne.” You cried, holding out your arm. You broke down into heavy tears at the sight of him as he shut the door, quickly hurrying over to you.

“Hey, hey, shh.” He sat on the bed and scooted to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you carefully into his side. “I got ya, kid. You’re okay.”

You bawled into his shirt, the comforting smell of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke brining a sense of calm over you. Your body shook in his arms, and you cried for everything in that moment, like you were mourning for the entire world.

“It’s okay, darlin. You’re okay.” His face watched etched with concern, have debating whether or not he should go get Eddie from the chapel, but he knew he’d be sound asleep. He shouldn’t leave you, he decided, holding you closer and letting you cry out everything you needed to.

“I don’t know-” Your breath hitched, fingers fisting at his shirt. “what to do.”

The weight of your sobs made it difficult to understand you completely. He kissed the top of your head, shushing you gently.

“I’m so..s-scared.” You whimpered, face burning with a broken ache. You were becoming inconsolable, hysterical with your broken heart, you didn’t even hear the door open up.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s eyes were wide at the sight of your distress, freezing him in his spot. Wayne looked from you to Eddie, knowing that it was his nephew that you really needed. He nodded him over, gently trading him spots as Eddie quickly and carefully swapped spots to hold you close.

“Shh, shh, baby, baby.” He coos, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. You’re not cold or distant, you relish the scent of him, bawling into his chest like a lost little girl. “I’m here. I’m here.”

He was so relieved to hold you, so happy that you were allowing him to comfort you. You’d probably hate him again in the morning, refuse to speak to him probably, but this, this was a step forward. He heard the click of the door shut and he was left alone with you, kissing the shell of your ear. “I’m here, baby.”

•

You were left with hiccups and an awkward silence that neither of you knew how to fill. He continued to hold you, almost two hours later. The sun was beginning to rise and you knew the nurses would be making their rounds to your room soon. You weren’t as relaxed into him as you were, now tense and unsure where to keep your arm.

He felt the same way. He rubbed his hand up your arm, trying to keep connected with you, but the awkwardness in the room continued to grow heavy, your tears having long since stopped. He didn’t know what to say and neither did you.

You couldn’t help but groan, your head killed you from your breakdown.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at your face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You said hoarsely, bringing your shaky hand up to your nose. “Just my nose. My head is killing me.”

He sat up, examining the darker shades of your face. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m okay.” You we’re tired of them pestering you every five minutes with medicine in little plastic cups, trying to get you to use your legs, despite the fact the doctor wanted you on bedrest.

You held your face and he watched you, swallowing dryly as he tried to find words. There was so many things he wanted to say, but would you listen? He got up and walked to the window, peeking out the blinds at the sun that was beginning to rise. He stretched awkwardly, a crick in his neck that made his own head hurt, too.

You looked at his back, trying your hardest not to cry. You had the urge to apologize, but did you have anything to apologize for? Was this your fault? Eddie was clearly suffering, but so were you.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out. Sorry for what exactly, you didn’t know. You couldn’t forgive him, could you? Could you forgive him for the way everyone was looking at you now? Could you forgive the fact that your mom was in jail?

He twirled around, eyes narrowing in confusion at your words. “For what?”

You gulped, not able to meet his eyes. “I don’t know.” I’m sorry you’re in pain. You could be sorry for that. You still loved him, after all, despite everything that happened.

“Do you hate me?” He asked, looking toward your bed. “For telling?”

It felt so back and forth. You were so sure of your feelings one minute, then completely changed the next. “I don’t hate you.” You answer honestly, voice dry and cracked. “But It’s hard to look at you.”

He nodded once briefly. He understood the feeling. It was your turn then, to look at him, finally taking in just how rough he looked. His hair was matted and greasy, desperate to be washed. He was exhausted completely. “Have you went home at all?” You ask, halfway sat up in your bed, good hand at your stitched side.

He gulped, shaking his head.

You frowned. “Eddie,” You began. “You should go home. I’m okay.”

He finally turned away from the window, standing their awkwardly in the middle of the floor. “Do you want me to go?”

No. No, you didn’t. But it wasn’t fair to make him stay just for your sake. He looked like he was going to pass out any second. He needed food and rest. “I want you to take care of yourself.” You answer. “You don’t have to stay here on my account.”

He gave you a look then. I want you to take care of yourself. He wanted the same for you, yet he was the bad guy. He furrowed his brows, licking his fry lips. “Okay.”

He made it halfway across the room before you stopped him again. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” You say, closing your eyes.

He sighs that time, becoming irritated himself. “Why, y/n? Why are you sorry? There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

You shake your head, nose throbbing. “I don’t- I don’t know. I just feel like I should say it, so I am.”

His hand was on the doorknob, and he rested his forehead against the door. “You don’t know what this has been like for me. I had to tell them, y/n. I understand you’re mad, but you don’t need to apologize. You have no reason to.”

Your eyes start to tear up, and you can feel the damp feeling of your bandage against your nose. “You didn’t have to.” You look to the wall again. Your safe spot. “But I know you felt like you did.”

He scoffed without humor, looking back at you like you were crazy. His eyes were matching yours with tears. “I didn’t have to? Is that some sort of joke? Do you not realize the situation you’re in? You could have died, y/n. You almost died.”

You cringed at his words and clamped a hand over your mouth. “But mom is in jail now. She’s going to go to prison.”

“Good riddance!” He couldn’t help but raise his voice, an angry tear spilling over his face. “Fuck her! I hope she rots in there! I don’t care how upset that makes you, y/n, it’s true. She’s a shit mom and deserves what she got!”

You sobbed with each word that spat, glaring at him over your fingers with a look that could kill. “That’s not true! She’s my mom, Eddie! I’m okay!”

“No, you’re not!” He marched over and pointed his finger at you. “You flew through a fuckin’ window and tore your stomach to shreds!” He took a deep breath, that soon had him releasing a sob. “Do you know how scared I was waiting for you to come out of surgery? The doctors didn’t know if you’d pull through, y/n. Do you have any idea how fucking messed up in the head I am now?” He was weeping freely, pacing across the room.

“Don’t you dare say you’re okay.” He said sternly. “Do you really care that little for yourself? Do you hate yourself so much that you don’t care for your own safety? Do you want to die that badly? Well, I won’t watch it. I won’t sit here and watch you wilt away. I can’t, baby.”

You were blubbering and carrying on, saying things that couldn’t understand. “I’m sorry.” He managed to hear through your broken sobs. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!”

You looked up at him with a bloodied nose, hot tears and snot pooling at your cupid’s bow. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you so bad, Eddie. Please, please don’t leave me!”

“Y/n,” He crumbled, going to you. “Stop apologizing, you silly girl.” No matter the fight, he would always go to you. “Aren’t you listening to me? You haven’t done anything. It’s your mother. She’s the one who’s hurt you, hurt us.”

He held your face and wiped the blood from your nose. “Please, forgive me, baby. I’m sorry. I promise, I won’t ever let you get hurt again. I’ll protect you if you let me, please let me.”

He’s kissing your hands, moving up your good arm and to your cheek. “God, I missed you, baby.”

“I love you.” You cried, gripping at his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

I love you. He sobbed at the words. You still loved him. He said it back lovingly, muttering the words he forgave you as you said the same. Neither of you realized just how hard it would be to move forward, but that was the thing about love, it conquered above all else.

Over time, you’d come to terms about your mom. Your dad would move down to Hawkins until you graduated, where eventually you and Eddie would have your own place. The abuse you had endured would be something that would always stick with you, but Eddie was your rock at the end of the day, and he’s the one that got you through it. Love always conquered all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson angst #eddie the brave #eddie angst #it’s just a cut

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vbecker10 · 3 days

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Whatever it Takes

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are desperately in love with your best friend Loki but don't know if he will ever love you the same.

Warnings: feeling like Loki won't love you, does this count as vaguely mild smut? Lol you tell me idk

A/N: I honestly just love this song (linked below) and I imagine this back and forth a lot when I listen to it so I decided to just write down and share it with you all finally 💚

You hold onto Loki's arm as you walk up the four flights to your apartment, holding your heels in your other hand. You giggle a little when you look down at the overly comfortable sneakers Loki had conjured for you on your walk back from the Tower. Once you reach your front door, you open your bag to search for your keys and say, "Thanks Loki. You know you didn't have to walk me all the way here, though."

"Nonsense," he smiles warmly. "It was the least I could do after you kept me company all evening."

"You know deep, deep, deep down you love Stark's parties," you joke instead of admitting that the only reason you went was to be close to Loki.

He chuckles, "I will admit the food is always quite delicious but that is all you will get out of me."

You laugh, hiding the part of you that wishes the night didn't need to end here, as two friends. You run your thumb over the edge of your key and imagine for the hundredth time what would happen if you invited Loki inside but you push away the thought.

"Have a goodnight Y/N," Loki takes a step towards you and hugs you tightly. You rest your head on his chest, savoring the feeling of his arms around you.

"Goodnight Loki," you tell him, looking up at him. He smiles down at you and you wish he would lean down and kiss you but instead he releases you from his embrace.

"I will see you tomorrow," he promises then he waits with his hands in his suit pockets for you to enter your apartment.

You close the door, tossing your heels near your shoe rack and placing your bag on the hall table. The feelings you suppresed for Loki all evening surface at once and you find them overwhelming. You sink to the floor with your back against the door and bring your knees to your chest. You close your eyes and imagine Loki standing in front of you and all the things you need say to him that you never will.

"What would it take to make you see me the way that I see you? What would it take to make you want me the way I've always wanted you?" you ask out loud, knowing there will never be an answer.

"I don't know why you're in everything I see and I can't deny that you're everything I need," you say, letting the tears fall without fighting to hold them back.

"You are my reason for everything I do. What would it take to make you fall for me the way I fell for you? What would it take to make you fight for me the way I've always fought for you?" you lower your head, resting it on your knees.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get to you, whatever it takes for you to love me," you say to the empty room. Your heart aches as your mind replays the same negative response it always does. Loki will never love you the way you love him and if you ever talk to him about how you feel, you will lose him as a friend forever.

There is a light knock on your door and you wipe your tears quickly as you get up. "Who is it?" you call to whoever knocked.

"Its Loki," he says calmly and you feel yourself panic.

How long he had been standing there, you wonder. Had he heard anything you said, did he hear everything? Why hadn't he left when you came into your apartment?

"Just a second," you answer nervously. You check your reflection in the hall mirror and wipe your smeared eye makeup clean but your eyes are still red.

You open the door and he looks at you, "I'm sorry, I know it is rude of me to still be here after you told me goodnight but... I just need to know," he pauses and you feel your heart hammering in your chest. "Who were you speaking about?"

You fight to keep eye contact with Loki and fidget with your fingers, picking at your nails. "No one," you lie quickly, unable to tell him the truth.

His shoulders slump and he nods, you can't believe it but he almost seems upset by your answer. "I guess I..." he sighs deeply. "I'm sorry, for a moment I thought, well I was hoping you were talking about your feelings towards me but I must have misread everything. I'm sorry, I should go," he turns away from you to leave.

"Wait," you step out into the hallway.

He stops and turns to face you, you can see the doubt in his eyes.

"I... I was talking about you," you admit slowly.

He walks steadily towards you as he speaks. "I have always seen you. I have always wanted you. I will always fight for you," Loki echos your words and you feel yourself blush.

"I don't know when I fell for you and I don't know why you bring me to my knees but I can't unwind from how you twisted me," he says, his eyes focused on yours.

"Loki," you breath out his name as he stands with his body flush against yours, his fingers trail slowly down your cheek then under your chin, his other hand rests on your lower back.

"Tell me you love me," he says in a low voice.

"I love you loki," you answer, your eyes locked on his.

"I love you Y/N," he says the words you have always wanted to hear.

His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes as he towers over you. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hard as one of his hands slides up to the back of your neck and his other hand grips your hip. You kiss Loki back, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to find yours as your fingers grip the fabric of his suit jacket.

He walks forward, causing you to move backwards out of the hallway and into your apartment. Loki kicks your door shut and picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist and your fingers tangle in his hair as he carries you through your living room and into your bedroom, his lips never leaving yours for a second.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

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raina-at · 1 day

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Do-Over

It’s long past midnight, and Sherlock is far away from sleep. His nose hurts. His heart hurts. Everything hurts.

He’s too depressed even for the violin.

Short version, not dead.

How stupid can you be?

He’d hoped if he laughed it off, he could pretend it wasn’t a big deal. Could pretend his heart wasn’t breaking, seeing John with this woman.

Sherlock keeps a list, since that day on the roof of Barts. His worst mistakes. His biggest regrets. The top ten moments he would like to relive, to do everything differently.

Tonight has won the top spot. How cruel, how callous, how stupid, to make a joke of John’s grief, to make a trick out of something that should have been sincere, to laugh at pain, to mock when he should have begged. Forgive me, he should have said. I never meant to cause you so much pain.

He closes his eyes and wishes for oblivion.

There’s a knock on the door. Quiet, hesitant, but there.

Sherlock walks over, opens the door.

John stands there, looks at him. Mustache shaved, wearing that ugly coat and a devastated expression.

“I think we need a do-over,” he finally says, chin set in that way when he has when something hurts like fuck but he’s solidering through anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock whispers, barely audible, his heart beating a mile a minute. He better not fuck this up, because he’s pretty sure John won’t come back for take three of this particular conversation. “I did it to keep you safe. I know I hurt you by all the lying, but I absolutely believe that if I’d told you, you’d be dead right now.”

John looks at him for a long time in silence. His eyes are wet, and searching, and scared. He swallows, takes a deep breath. “My turn now. I wanted to tell you something. Before you jumped. And I swore to myself that if I ever had the chance, I wouldn’t chicken out again.”

Sherlock tilts his head in question, but says nothing, afraid that a loud word or the wrong move will scare away the boldness that’s come over both of them, the midnight courage of broken hearts.

“I—” John makes a frustrated noise when his voice gives out. He clears his throat, tries again. “I— you know what, fuck it.”

He fists his hand in Sherlock’s shirt front and pulls him in, pressing their lips together.

It hurts a bit because of the broken nose, but Sherlock still pulls John closer and kisses back with everything he has.

“Come home,” he whispers against John’s lips. “Please.”

John smiles into the kiss. “Yes.”

---

Let's be honest, if we could change one scene, it would be this one.

Also, periodic reminder that I'm collecting all of these here on AO3.

And since I can never resist a shameless self-plug, I wrote a fic that consists entirely of do-overs, it's called Empty Houses, and it fits this prompt so perfectly I could have just linked to it instead ;-)

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @peanitbear @jolieblack @meetinginsamarra @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog @weeesi @thalialunacy @thegildedbee @dapetty @salmonsown

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #may prompts 2024 #do over #my fic

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beefrobeefcal · 2 days

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Let's Get Physical! feat. Marcus Pike & f!Reader

a Marcus Pike one shot | Rated: 18+ | word count: 3,883 warnings: swearing, rougher p in the v unprotected sex, fingering, talk about weight gain, belly appreciation, self esteem issues surrounding weight, reader is assumed to be shorter and lighter than Marcus, reader has long enough hair for Marcus to grip,

A/N: Okay y'all... here's the mam himself! Thank you to @rebel-held for their dedication and holding vigil for his arrival, and for @yahtiwakitakos for their love of Marcus! Thanks to @strang3lov3, @noxturnalpascal & @neverwheremoonchild for their eyes & thoughtful insight.

As soon as you’d gotten the desk next to Marcus, he knew you’d be friends. He’d transferred out of being on the field and to the home office in your state after a personal matter had him decide to transfer. Since that point, you’d worked closely together, learning almost everything you could about one another.

You’d taken to him almost immediately, but his kind and aloof manner kept you from pushing further to see if there was something more. You’d eventually fallen into a content and friendly rapport that turned into a work-based friendship.

Marcus learned about your love of reading, allowing you to collect obscure information, and you’d learned that he did not cook, opting for take out at every meal.

You’d even earned nicknames from one another. You called him Pickles after a long-forgotten joke about his last name, and he called you Dex, short for Poindexter, given you aptitude for Trivial Pursuit.

You worked side by side for four years, and in that time, you’d noted that Marcus had gained weight, but it wasn’t that noticeable – it was gradual. His clothing had always fit. He'd never had an ill-fitting suit or a too-tight dress shirt or jacket. Yes, you'd notice his weight fluctuate and increase, but he camouflaged it well with his clothing. Sure, he’d developed a bit of a softer jawline under the scruff on his face - it enhanced his pout with those big brown eyes; and yeah, his middle looked less trim, as did his thighs…

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care – Marcus was your friend.

You repeated those lies every time he’d look up at you and ask if you were ready for lunch or pat your shoulder as he said you’d done a good job. You did notice his waistline increasing and you thought it was sexy and hot, but your own internal battle with self image and weight had tarnished your ability to admit you liked heavier men and watched to help them get heavier.

You so badly wished he was more than a friend. He was kind and sweet, and never swore, even going so far as to tell you to ‘behave’ or ‘watch your mouth’ when you left an f-bomb slip. The way his big brown eyes watched you, you wished they were imagining you naked and crying out for him, and as you’d lose yourself in this fiction, he’d bring you back to earth, asking if you’d read the latest case file.

You’d told yourself that you really didn’t notice or care because Marcus was your friend.

*****

“Morning, Dex!”, he called as he meandered to his desk. He had two coffees in his hands from your favourite coffee shop… the one that was out of the way for him to get to on his way to the office… the one he only stopped at when he either needed a favour or had bad news.

You narrowed your eyes at him and motioned to the coffee with a pointed finger. “Stop. What’s that for?”

“Just wanted to get my best girl a coffee. S’that a crime?”, he smiled, trying to force as much innocence from his eyes as possible.

You didn’t move from your position and raised your brow. He sighed and put the coffees on the desk and slumped his shoulders, letting his work satchel drop to the floor.

“I need your help.”

“I knew it.”

“But you can’t laugh.”

His last statement made you freeze. Looking up at him, his face looked slightly pained as his winced, waiting for the sign to continue.

“Out with it, Pickles.”

“They want agents to be in the field. I saw the sign last night as I was leaving, so I looked into it. Don’t get me wrong – love the office but I miss field work.”

He paused, eyes searching your face for approval. You could see the worry on him, the fear of rejection to his idea. You nodded, arms gently moving from their crossed position, and you reached for the cup closest to you on his desk and took a sip. It was good coffee and you hummed in approval.

Marcus let out a breath he more than likely didn’t realize he was holding and continued. “There’s a catch thought – I have to pass a physical.”

You just about spat our coffee out and swallowed it funny, causing you to start coughing. You waved him off, sputtering an ‘I’m okay.’ as you motioned for him to keep talking.

“Yeah… uh – so the physical.”, he said slowly, watching you carefully with a bit of worry. “I have to pass the one I did when I was a rookie… the one we all had to pass. You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded again, trying to get the image of Marcus huffing and puffing on a treadmill, sweaty and just a plain mess… the same way you’d imagined he’d be on top of you… rutting and jack hammering you into your mattress…

“Yeah! Just peachy, Pickles!”, you croaked, the rasped out a laugh. “You want to go in the field and leave me behind? Be Mister Bigshot and meet some other prettier coworker to bring coffee?”

You were trying to tease him, but your words and the sharpness of your tongue sounded like they aimed to wound, and it wasn’t lost on Marcus.

“Well, why not come with me? We could be partners.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of travelling with Marcus to different art crime scenes. You’d never been able to shake the stories he told about the weird things he’d investigated in the field. Yeah, there were the big things, but you were more intrigued by the obscure things he’d investigated, like the unnamed famous actor who’s inadvertently bought stolen vintage clown pornography, or the weird old grumpy suburban guy who cluelessly had a priceless - albeit mundane - horse painting hanging in his bedroom, or the time some government worker was caught at the airport with illegally imported erotic art from South America that reeked of cigarettes.

The idea had merit and you nodded, cautiously optimistic.

*****

"Look, I know what I said, but maybe...", Marcus called out from behind the bathroom door. "...maybe I am a little more out of shape than I thought." You stopped your advancement down the hallway and chuckled with a smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"It... it-uh... it fits... different."

You paused and as the cogs in your head turned, trying to decipher what he meant. It hit you and you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face as your smile exploded into a wide-eyed grin.

If what you were thinking was true, the gym clothing that was standard issue for all new FBI trainees - and would be the required outfit for his upcoming physical fitness test - would give you an eye full of how pudgy he'd really gotten. While sitting in your thoughts, your silence made Marcus nervous.

Deciding to just rip the band-aid off, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

Your jaw dropped.

You’d seen the pictures of him during training. The clean-shaven sharp jaw and trim toned body clad in a too big t-shirt and knee length shorts.

That was not who stood before you. His shorts, while tighter, still looked like they fit. But that poor t-shirt was pulled tight across his broad chest and shoulders, and the hem was unable to traverse his ample middle, exposing about an inch above his belly button down to the curve of his underbelly and giving you a full view of his love handles.

His face was flushed, and his eyes pleaded with you. You cleared your throat and smiled, trying to hide the fact that your core was clenching on nothing.

“It fits!”, you managed to squeak out and Marcus look at you stupefied and held his hands open to his sides.

“Really?”, he asked in exasperation, raising his eyebrows. “You think this – “, he motioned to his middle. “- qualifies as fitting?”

“I mean, you got it on? That means it sort of fits?” You winced as you spoke, trying to keep a pleasant smile.

“Fuck!”

You jumped as he let out one the loudest ‘fuck’s you’d ever heard, and your eyes grew wide that it was him who yelled it. He threw his hands up in the air and stood with his hands on his hips, knee popped. His jaw tensed as he looked away, stuck in thought, and you took the opportunity to gaze over his body, noting the way his stomach moved with each frustrated breath and the way his shoulders pulled the absolute life out of the shirt’s seams.

You were lost in thought ogling him and didn’t notice that he’d turned his attention back to you. When you finally looked up at him, both feeling your faces heat up slightly and an awkward silence sat heavy between you.

You decided to break the silence first, clearing your throat again. “Pickles, you… you look great.”

Marcus stated to laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him.

“I know I look like a busted overstuffed sausage – “

“Oh, stop it!”, you hushed him, stepping towards him. “Okay, sure, it doesn’t fit quite the same, but nobody stays the same size their whole life.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk and nodded. “Fine.”

*****

So far, all the equipment in his apartment complex’s gym were now Marcus’ sworn enemies. The last three hours had been filled with Marcus angrily sweating and using every curse and swearword under the sun. He was so focused on being angry that he forwent any self consciousness about his clothes not fitting.

After another failed attempt at trying to navigate the elliptical, he yelled “PISSING SHITTING FUCKING COCK SUCKING MOTHER FUCKER!!” and stormed out of the gym. You quickly grabbed the things he left in his departure and followed him.

*****

“Fuck it! I’m not fucking doing this!”, he boomed, furiously ripping open his refrigerator and grabbing the carton of chocolate milk and chugged it.

You quietly tried to get him to water to hydrate, and contemplated asking why his swearing sounded so natural when you’d never heard him use anything harsher than ‘fiddlesticks’ prior to this. “Marcus… maybe some water would – “

He finished the chocolate milk then tossed the carton haphazardly into the sink, and his eyes aggressively looked you up and down. You closed your mouth and stood, light a deer in headlights, nervously fidgeting your hands as you felt heat bloom in your core and on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! I know what you’re thinking!”, he barked at you, making you jump. “God dammit! You think I’m too fat and out of fucking shape to pass that physical! And you know what?”, he yelled, grabbing one of the giant pretzels he’d picked up yesterday from the kiosk in the mall. “You’re fucking right!”

He angrily bit into the pretzel and chewed, then huffed and ripped open the fridge again and grabbed a king-size can a beer. You watched, bewildered and bewitched, as he maneuvered between chomps and gulps of the pretzel and beer.

You’d never seen him this enraged and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Sure, you’d seen him get snide or lippy when he was frustrated, but you had no idea he could turn his temper up to eleven and he had such a vast array of foul words in his vocabulary – and find it so hot. You were staring at him, seeing that once he’d finished the pretzel, his hand went to his underbelly, pitching and kneading it slightly as he downed the rest of the beer. Your eyes were then pulled to his crotch in the almost too-small shorts and the noticeable bulge that had developed there.

Your lips parted and your brows tented. Marcus kept his eyes on your face, seeing the reaction you were having to his meltdown. It egged him on, knowing that you were getting something out of this. He’d longed for the chance to get to hold you beyond the occasional side hug or shoulder bump, wanting to touch you and make you feel as beautiful as he saw you. But he’d assumed you were completely fine being friends, given the way his weight had creeped up. He didn’t want to lose you by making a move and wrecking the chance to get the pieces of you that you allowed him to have access to. He’d stayed respectful, and courteous, and friendly, all while desperately wishing he was yours. But all that went out the window the moment he felt rage course through his veins and saw you look at him like that. He wanted you to be his.

He threw the empty beer can aside, hearing its tinny landing by the sink, and stalked towards you. Taken slightly aback at how aggressive his body language was, you stepped back and were stopped by the counter behind you. Marcus crowded you, standing over you, his belly moving against you with every ragged, angry breath.

“Marc – “

His name was cut off in your mouth as his collided with yours. He roughly grabbed your waist with one huge hand while the other held your face. He dominated the kiss, his tongue pushing for entrance again your lips, and you let him in, tasting the hoppy beer and salty yeast of the pretzel. As the passion built between you, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent and urgent. His hands roamed, pulling you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. There was no rhythm to this kiss; it was him exploring and dominating and you submitting to him and your desperate needs.

You finally parted, panting and breathless. He looked beautiful; his eyes were dark with blown pupils and his lips were reddened. The hand that had held your waist moved down to the crux of your thighs and pressed against your Athleisure legging-clad core. Your mouth opened and a soft, breathy whine barely sounded out. The fury in his eyes had ebbed and morphed into an aggressive and possessive need, but he watched you, looking for any sign to stop. You gave nothing but green lights.

He leaned his face closer to yours, his nose nudging your cheek. You let out a small whimper and nodded, tilting your head, and he grazed his teeth along your cheek to your jaw, then bit down softly. With his mouth on you, he growled through his teeth, “Mine.”

He pulled back and turned your around, pushing your palms onto the counter, and he stood flush with his front to your back. As he grinded against you and bit and kissed your neck, he pushed your leggings down over your ass with one hand, the other pushed between your legs in the front.

“Oh fuck… you’re soaked, baby…”, he growled, biting the back of your neck. His middle finger ran along your seam, pulling a mewling whine from your mouth.

“You want me? Tell me you want me.”

When you didn’t answer beyond a frantic nod, he said your name in a low snarl and his grip on you tightened. “I asked you a question.”

“Mar-Marcus! Please!”, you cried out, feeling his finger circle then tap your throbbing nub repeatedly. You felt him smile against your neck, his other hand palming and squeezing your tit, and he started fucking into your wet heat with his pointer and index fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous… so funny… so smart… and you’re letting this fat guy finger you in his kitchen…”

His thumb caught your clit in the haste of his hand’s movement, and you let out a surprised yelp and your body jolted. The hand gripping your breast came up your sternum and secured itself around your throat gently, forcing you upright and flush against him.

“Juicy little snatch… just gripping my fingers, baby… you - you gonna cum for me, Dex baby?”

You whined and nodded. His hand moved up and he pushed two fingers into your mouth, exerting the power he had over you. He did it because he could, because you let him. You were both learning more about the other: he wanted to dominate, you wanted to be dominated.

You came as he pressed your tongue down, almost eliciting a gag from you. It felt filthy and raw and everything you’d hoped but never thought Marcus could be.

“There is it… Good girl… You’re mine… I’m gonna fuck that into you.”, he grunted and pulled both sets of fingers from your wet holes, shoving you down flush with the counter.

You’d barely finished cumming, let alone gotten through the aftershocks making your cunt flutter as he shoved his shorts down and lined up his cock with you and pushed in.

“Jesus fuck…”, you groaned. “You’re s’fucking big!”

“You like me big… say it. Say you like me being a fat desk jockey…”

“Yes… god yes…”

“Like seeing me eat, too, huh?... like watching me get fat?”

“Yes! Please… Marcus, please!”

You felt the beginnings of another orgasm as he pounded into you from behind and filled your mind with the images of him stuffing himself stupid on take out at work while you sat on his lap and helped feed him. It was a guilt-filled fantasy that you’d never allowed yourself to fully process and accept until this moment.

Marcus pulled out of you suddenly. Fearing you did something wrong, you made a frantic and breathless ‘huh?’ sound. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum, Dex.”

You couldn’t help but smile; Marcus was ever the romantic.

He tossed you on the bed and crawled up to you, pushing your legs apart. He took a moment to look at your pussy, smirking with a smug head shake, then locked eyes with you. He leaned forward, one hand landing beside your head and his other hand grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him, guiding his cock back into your desperate, wet cunt.

“Look at you… just gorgeous… “, he marveled with smug satisfaction as he pounded into you, watching your eyes close, brows furrow, and lips part to let out a soft pant.

His thumb came down on your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles. “Come on, Dex… gimme one so I can watch… lemme see…”

“Marcus… I’m close…”

“I know, pretty girl… give it to me… come on… gimme one I can see…”

“Yes… right there! Right there!”

His thumb hit just the right angle and you fell apart as he pistoned you on his cock. Your hand reached up, gripping the arm above your head, and you arched your back in pure bliss.

“There it is… there you go… fuck, good girl… look at you… so god dammed pretty…”

The noises you made sounded alien coming from your mouth. You’d never heard this cacophony of whines, cries, mewls and moans come from your body before, and Marcus was revelling in it. He removed his thumb form your oversensitive nub, and he brought him body down onto your as he continued to thrust into you. His weight felt amazing; it was everything and ore than what you could have hoped, and you needed more of it on you. You hooked one leg on his hip, then brought the other one up, trying to lock your ankles. Marcus was too big, his love handled waist too wide and his thrusts now to frantic to get a good latch.

You raised your head and captured his mouth in a messy kiss, and he interlocked his fingers into yours. He panted into your mouth as you made eye contact; gone was the ferocious and angry man who’d fucked you in his kitchen and back was Marcus: sweet, funny, soft Marcus.

“Come on, Pickles.”, you whispered against his lips with a wry grin.

The surrendering groan that tumbled out of him matched perfectly with his out of rhythm thrusts.

“You gonna let me cum in you? Please?”, he panted, hips stuttering.

Nodding, you desperately whined, “Yeah… yes, please… please… c-cum in me!”

Marcus dropped his forehead onto yours. With a few more snaps of his hips with corresponding grunts, he let out a string of groans and panting breaths, then stilled in you.

You were both breathing hard, and his fingers flexed and relaxed repeatedly in yours as he came down from his high. Your mouth found his again briefly, then he pulled back and looked you in the eyes. His brows furrowed and his eyes softened further, as if the weight of what had just happened suddenly dawned on him and he was worried this was it for the two of you.

“Hey… hey hey hey…”, you soothed, hand coming up to cup his cheek, a soft smile on your face. “It’s okay… I’m okay.”

He nodded, still unsure, the blurted out, “I like you so much, Dex. I wanted this for so long…and I wanted it to be special, and – “

“It was special!”, you beamed with a smile, loving how adorably flustered he looked in contrast to before. “You hulked out and railed me in your kitchen!”

He stopped and looked at you, dumbfounded. Slowly, a smile peaked out on one side of his mouth. “You liked that.”, he huffed out in a laugh. “Dex, you kinky girl!”

You laughed and playfully slapped his arm. “Knock it off, Pickles!”

He pulled his softening cock from you and kissed you, both of you giggling.

Marcus pulled away and teased, “You liked getting railed by a fat guy… in the kitchen…”

“Yeah, I did!”, you challenged with a smile. “And I hope that fat guy does it again!”

His breath hitched and he swallowed, looking away for a moment. “So, you’re okay with…?”

He couldn’t finish saying what he wanted to. Years of poor self esteem and heart-breaking moments with other women wouldn’t let him, nor did that part of him want to hear your answer in case it was rejection. Your hand guided his face back to you.

“I wouldn’t have let you if I wasn’t.

His smile softened. “How about a date first?”

You couldn’t help the heat and shy smile that bloomed on your face, and he watched as you melted into his words.

*****

Marcus walked into the office the next Monday, carrying another two coffees from your favourite place. You were preoccupied with one of your coworkers but shit him a smile before returning your attention to the file before you.

He placed the coffees down, hung his coat and bag, then noticed the collection of tupperwear containers with a sticky note on them.

Getting takeout is fine, but this is a sampling of what I can do for you. Xoxo Dex.

He opened a few of the containers and in them were homemade versions of his absolute favourite take out meals. He brought one to his nose and inhaled, just as your coworker left the room. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his middle, patting and squeezing his belly.

Marcus deciding he wasn’t ever going to need to pass a physical again.

No more tag list! follow @beefnotes for fic updates!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike smut #🥩

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waayfo · 3 days

Text

To you, who have lost yourself:

aventurine x gn!reader. a/n : guess who just broke up w their first ever bf 🤓☝️ tags. light angst, (not rlly) hurt/comfort, breakups, mainly just aven’s letter 4u. might add p2 but idk

Everything went like a dream at first; everything tastes sweet, all of Aventurine's demeanor and words always leave an impression on your mind. He was born to be a gentleman, you think.

But you should know more than anyone, that every sweet attitude and speech is a trap. A trap that pushes you over the edge of a cliff.

The cliff is that will lead you to an endless darkness.

“You look breathtaking, Ves'tacha.” and his hand always guides you.

You always loved it when you woke up in the morning, and looked at him still asleep in awe. How can there be a human who looks so stunning?

Stroking his hair, you always say good morning as soon as you see him start to open his eyes. The birds are chirping, and you both are still rotting in bed.

But saying goodbye was never in your vision. The ‘in the end, everyone you’ve ever loved will became a lesson’ was never be your wish. But you can't deny that not falling for sweet words is a lesson for you.

“This is not your fault, but mine. I.. i just need some time alone.” you are now reluctant to hear the words that came out of his mouth.

“But not breakup!” You can’t help but try to hold back your tears. But all you heard next were excuses coming out of his mouth.

How many days have passed since that day? You don't remember it anymore. You start to overworking yourself to forget it.

Forgetting how to eat on time, and how you miss sleeping with someone in your arms.

That first week was like hell, all you remember is crying. Staring at the letter you were holding, you just listened silently to Topaz—your ex's friend—excuse herself.

You ignore the letter for eight days, reluctant to open and read it. Or maybe you are afraid that you will remember everything again?

Day nine, you try to read it. Aventurine's handwriting that you've been missing all this time is clearly visible on the letter.

The “For you, who have lost yourself” writing is clearly visible on the front of the letter, written a little large by purpose.

‘Dearest,

I hope this letter is delivered safely to you.

I don't want to take back my apology. I also don't regret knowing you all this time. I can be happy and finding out about happiness all this time thanks to you. I can feel what love is thanks to you. I can live and love this life thanks to you. The other side of my heart desperately seeking for you, but it’s all too late now..

I can’t change the fact that i’ve hurt you— someone who loved me, also who’s important to me.

After spending a lot of time thinking and asking Topaz for advice, I decided to write a letter of apology—or rather the words I wish I could have said to you sooner:

Your presence always brings calm to me. I don't know how I can describe all the things you make me feel. And you are appreciated, please remember that well. You must love yourself more than you love other people.

I’m very proud of you. You are enough just as you are.

And I never lie when I praise you. I never lie when I say 'I love you'. I didn't lie when I confessed my feelings to you at that time. I never lie about everything I do and say to you.

I'm sorry I couldn't say this sooner.

I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to tell you everything, especially my past.

I'm sorry for being such a coward hiding behind my words.

I'm sorry I didn't say this directly because I knew you would hate me

I’m sorry for all my mistakes.

It was while writing this letter that I realized the real reason I asked to break up; I want you to find someone better than me. Who doesn't just rely on his words even though he is actually a coward.

All my apologies are not enough to replace your feelings which were hurt because of my actions and words.

‘To love is to let go.’ That's the advice Topaz gave me. And it took eight days for me to understand it.

So please, find someone better than me.‘

#i swear this is just a phase that i write angst #konstelasiv fanfic #aventurine x y/n #aventurine x you #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #kakavasha x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

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koiir · 2 days

Text

SWEETEST LOVER

Blue lock boys who are the BEST lovers ( I’m bias) Relationships with them { not proofread }

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ Chigiri, hiori, reo, isagi, kurona

CHIGIRI H.

Chigiri is the definition of “best friend and partner” he’s rather open to you (having known for years) and also being the person who’s the best boyfriend you can could ask for.

The advice he gives is one of harsh criticism yet the most truthful, many would be surprised by how blunt he can be with you although it shows in how he cares and truly only wants the best for you. If opening your eyes with a hard truth will help then he will take that route.

Although of course, he isn’t heartless. He comforts you with a warm smile, heart beating at how attentive he becomes with you. Giving you the princess treatment one would die for. He knows comfort can differ in various ways, so he will always try and communicate on what you need.

I feel as though chigiri struggles with communication concerning his wants, so he tries to grow in order to be the best version of himself he can give you. Yet there will be moments where this can “problem” can arise and he will always realize his faults.

Other than that, his knack for his wellbeing swells into you as well. Hair is rather important for the guy, so when he comes to you with a grin about a new hair secret, expect a days worth of hair care. The two of you are seen as rather “gossipers” yet you two just find anything and everything interesting. Really, anything with chigiri can turn into an interesting conversation. Thus making him an amazing boyfriend and best friend in one<33 ( I could go on about him but I’ll save that for later)

HIORI Y.

SO UNDERRATED I LUV HIORI. Ugh he’s the sweetest I mean cmonnn…

With his already calm and polite demeanor, falling in love with him is that of a warm spring that flourishes into a bond greater than words can say.

A quick learner, can easily pick up your moods and will give it his all for you! Very much a giver and will cherish whatever you give him, hiori becomes emotional seeing how much you give to him, already viewing your love the best thing he could every ask for.

From his childhood, he was told he was loved, although feeling it would come and go. Yet when you come into the picture, it’s as if he experiences the feeling of being loved for the first time ever. His past one of hallow that now with you, it beams with hope and joy, making him the more doting on you with showing how much he truly cherishes what you have given to him.

The type of guy who would let you drag him anywhere, as his face is filled with adoration for you, soft smile evident as he lets your body take the lead as he follows you to no end. Out and about, would definitely rub your wrist gently before crossing the street whispering a faint “be careful” that causes your heart to race in seconds.

Can’t forgot how he would definitely, want you to game with him. Even if you don’t he finds a way for you to be near or engage with him. Whether that be you seated next to him or him lying across you, the peace hiori has in being close to you is infinite. A safe space he never wishes to let go of.

Seems squishy (don’t ask)

ISAGI Y.

GREEN FLAG I REPEAT ULTIMATE GREEN FLAG. Might be bias but cmon it’s isagi

The boyfriend who literally will do ANYTHING you wish for (as long as it’s reasonable ofc) Follows you around like a lovesick puppy as he comments on places he thinks you would like or you two should go to. Will love to get stuff where it compliments the other, almost as if something that matches.

He once asked you what you were going to wear and showed up with a similar color combo, mind you he bought you two the same shoes for days where you want to match.

The kind of guy who will hold eye contact whenever you talk, even if you can’t hold it with him because of how intense his gaze is. He will continue looking at you as id you’re all he can stare at. How can someone make you flustered without anything at all?? That’s isagi for you

Isagi is someone you admire, someone you learn from even as you two grow in the relationship. His kind heart giving you the courage to try new things as he supports you all the way, words of encouragement making a hue of light shine in your life.

Overall, a loving caring guy who always has your back and a cutie

BACHIRA M.

Bachira just like anyone has his…quirks. Although nothing severe to the point of destruction or hurting you. If anything he’s the most loyal and treats you with such care, fearing that one day you might perish or realize he’s not so called normal.

His insecurities one that you know from the beginning, tending the wounds he has held from years of the past. His reluctance to thank you with the best he can give you, his affection and loyalty to you one of scarce of losing you. He can’t fathom this, you with him. Together. So it’s only natural he wishes to show you what others cannot see.

There’s never a dull moment with him, his vibrant persona melting into you as you intoxicate in the newfound confidence he gives you. Bachira is the type to move you out of your comfort zone, making a break to see you in a new light that he’s lucky enough to see and be the cause for.

His affection spreads throughout every aspect, in public he resembles a dog that clings onto its owner that holds eyes filled with adoration.

His warm hands allowing for yours to bask in his warmth, feeling more as he squeezes yours and grins from ear to ear viewing your flushed expression. “There’s that face I adore oh so much!”

Eyes wander to your figure as bachira sees the shiver in your figure, cold winds swirling around causing you to feel the cold sensation of the winds. His embrace eternal, fitting like a puzzle as he snuggles up behind you swaying your bodies side to side. The norm would be teasing words, yet for now he embraces the delight with you in his arms.

Ah bachira

KURONA R.

Cutest boy I mean cmon he has shark teeth

No matter the time being, kurona can’t fathom that you’re truly his, his mornings being filled with a lovesick smile at the thought of you.

His teeth hold many stories, the most memorable being how insecure he is because of them, smile showing less due to this fact. But the day you tell him to smile, hands on his cheeks as you gaze into his eyes, the crack in his lips breaking as he smiles at you softly.

It’s only natural for kurona to want to be the reasons for your smiles, indulging in what will make your smile come to fruition so he can also gift you with his smile.

His adoration for sharks weaves into you, no matter what he makes a correlation between you. Expect matching trinkets of any shark related item. Plushies that greet you in a pair that hold eachother, his lips spilling the words of “look, it’s us”

What may come to a surprise is his ability to make you swoon with his words, maybe not directly, but on paper. The reassurance kurona needs is spilled onto messages late at night, showing his vulnerability on text because he cannot bear with how you might respond. He knows you would comfort him, although he knows his heart will experience speed to limits unknown.

So when morning dew comes and you wake up with his messages, your heart grows fond seeing just how much the boy wants you to know, his heart is all yours and he wishes to hold it for the eternity to come.

a/n; MONTHSS of not posting anything…prob cause I’m almost out of school and have inspo

edit; guys I’m sorry reo wasn’t added my ass was just tired after writing for bachira😞

#koiir writes #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk x reader #bachira x reader #meguru bachira x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi x reader #hiori x reader #hyoma chigiri x reader #chigiri x reader #kurona x reader #kurona ranze x reader #blue lock fanfiction #bllk imagines

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sleepyangelkami · 15 hours

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could you do Carl reacting to you saying ur safe word?💕💕

SAFETY BLANKET c.grimes

☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - during a time filled with vulnerability, everything becomes too much. luckily your safety blanket isn't going anywhere.

☆ WARNINGS - sexual themes, slight smut in beginning, use of safeword, crying, swearing, aged-up characters, use of good girl (not sexual), anxiety, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there had to be something so seriously wrong with you.

that was the only viable answer you could give yourself for the uncomfortableness settled in your lower stomach that should have been filled with pleasure. a moment spent with your boyfriend that should have meant so much. and yet you'd never been so distant.

you didn't know what was wrong, truthfully.

one thing you'd known well was where carl stood. at least, you hoped his opinion hadn't changed since before. he always said that if there was something wrong, he'd stop. he didn't need a reason or answer, utter one simple word and it was over for the both of you. he'd maneuver you back to the bed and assure you that he wasn't angry, he'd never be angry. not with you, at least.

so why did you find yourself not wishing to utter such a simple word?

on the very tip of your tongue, reaching out, practically begging to be yelled. what was wrong? you didn't know. you didn't know. and frustration was building up in your throat, almost tears building in your eyes.

skin on fire, eyes burning. how could you feel so horrible and yet not muster the single word you needed to stop it all at once.

perhaps it was the worry that he wouldn't think of you as the 'good girl' he always did, always wishing to please him. and carl? well, he'd taken to your stiff posture at first but once you laid back, seemingly relaxed for him he took no notice of it.

how could he? none of this was his fault.

whether or not you didn't feel good, it had nothing to do with your boyfriend who lay atop of you, pressing his weight onto you. it was suffocating, but that didn't mean it was his fault. yet as the word reached your tongue, you worried if that was what he'd think.

everything was too much, you simply couldn't handle it anymore.

so instead of a long string of moans falling from your mouth, the so simple, so detrimental, word "strawberry." fell instead.

it was almost devastating how quickly he froze, how quickly your eyes began to burn insufferably.

you thought of a thousand words that could have left his lips. "shit." was the first he'd thought of. "i'm gonna... fuck― i'm gonna pull out of you now, okay?"

despite your teary eyes, you'd managed to nod your head almost frantically. the minute the word fell from your lips it was as if you wished for nothing more than the entirety of the moment to be over. you wanted to cry, swallow yourself whole beneath your own pretty pink bed sheets. instead, you lay beneath him with burning eyes in his own sweaty blue bed sheets.

the minute he backed away from you, giving you room, the tears started all over again. you hoisted yourself up so quickly, fishing around for your clothes while you sniffled, trying to suck up the cries that didn't wish to leave you.

he watched as you grasped his t-shirt, not your own, trying to flip it the back way around. he watched wondering if he could step in.

he was the very one who put the safeword in it's use, he gave it to you so that if there was ever a time you'd need it, you could use it. yet it'd never happened before, he was a little worried on making the wrong mistake for the second time that night, pushing you over your limits again.

he probably should have asked could he touch you, were you comfortable with his body so close to yours. but as you struggled to flip the t-shirt to the way it should be, he couldn't help but reach his soft fingertips out.

they touched yours quickly, causing startled, tear-filled eyes to snap up. "hey, hey, 's okay, baby." taking the t-shirt from your hands, gently setting it down on the bed. "'s okay, take your time."

a sudden realisation that you didn't have to cover yourself up so quickly, shun yourself away from him.

so instead of turning your face, refusing to look at the boy, you practically threw yourself into his arms.

without uttering a word, the boy took you. it was easy to hold you at a time like this, shaking while muffling your cries into the shirt on his shoulder. it was easy to provide comfort because it was all he wanted to do. it wasn't easy to watch you like this, hear your muffled cries.

guilt wracked at his bones. "you wanna tell me what happened?" knowing it was something he'd done. he'd made the effort to talk in a low voice, making sure he wouldn't startle you any more than he had already. "huh?" his nose nudged at your cheek, making your face finally leave sanctuary.

gazing straight forward, you could see his face, brows knit together and strewn up, a look of guilt plain and simple against his features. could you possibly feel more awful? "'m sorry." voice cracking as though you were but a mere child.

a different look fell across his face, almost one of agony.

the mere thought of you thinking it'd been your fault.

"hey, hey." fingers moving to grasp at your face, holding you so that you were looking at him. "don't apologise to me, pretty girl, this isn't your fault. 'm so proud of you."

brows knitting together, evident confusion washing over you as you tilted your head up to the boy. "you are?" surprise clean in your voice.

"'course i am, sweet girl." he settled you so that you could rest against his lap as comfortably as you could, despite the fact you were both still nude. "did what i told you to do, it felt wrong so you told me. would have been wrong if you didn't, yeah? 'was such a good girl."

with a sniffle, your eyes cast down to your hands, playing with your fingers as you tried to settle the anxiety in your chest. carl did that better than playing with your fingers ever did. "you're not mad?" voice low.

"no." his nose nudged against your cheek again, he sounded so sure of himself. "no, never mad."

voice cracking once more, ever so softly. "promise?"

his lips curled gently. "i promise." his fingers rubbed against your sides, soothing the slightly bruised skin from his fingers digging into them only moments before. "you need anything, sweetheart? some water? a bath?"

a mere shake of your head was enough. your cheek gently placed itself against his chest, listening to the patter of his heartbeat. it was the kind of thing you never wanted to stop listening to, as soothing as it could get. "jus' wanna be with you."

"'s what we'll do then, 'kay?" the boy wrapped you in a clean shirt, not the one you'd been fumbling with before. this one was white and smelled of linen, he then placed a clean pair of his boxers on you, dressing himself in almost the very same thing before tucking you into bed.

carl didn't need sex. sex was a plus when it came to you. but truthfully, he'd go his entire lifetime without it if it meant he could hold you like this every single night. your head against the crook of his neck, breathing through your mouth and not your clogged nose. your eyes red but softly fluttering as his fingers gathered strands of hair, gently playing with them.

the soft sound of your gentle laughter as the tv in front of you both played, some old dvd he'd found on a run that he just knew you'd like.

he couldn't help but stare, a breathtaking view so close to him. he must have been something as good as an angel in his past life to deserve this, he was sure of it. "'m so proud of you." he kept repeating the phrase, hoping one day you'd understand just how proud he was.

and as the light dimmed, tv gently playing at a low volume, you'd almost fallen asleep. almost without saying the most important words. "carl?" glancing his head down to you. "i love you."

smiling ever so softly. "i love you." pressing the gentlest kisses to your head. "now get some sleep."

you slept good that night, knowing you'd been so stupid to think carl would ever get angry with you, especially over something as simple as that. on the contrary, he'd been happy.

you didn't need a safe word, a simple "no." would have done it for you both. carl didn't care, as long as you had your safety blanket at the end of the night, wrapping around him as though he were the trunk of a tree.

he couldn't complain, he was holding practical gold in his hands.

if he really was, you could call him a hoarder. he wouldn't trade you out for anything else in the world.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

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